Sinner's Prayer

It's true, I've committed sins
countless as fireflies 
over the meadow at dawn,
candles in the wind,
wisps of milkweed
blown out to sea...
Nothing takes root
but the Master's love.
Here's the secret:
God has no interest in our guilt.
Honey overflows the sepulcher.
If you understand this,
what else can you do
but bow to a dung beetle?
Confess to a moth
on a blade of grass?
Sing to a ladybug,

"Walk on me!"