I’m just a man with a garden,
and bags full of seeds nearby;
my misdeeds require a pardon;
bringing offerings to reply.
I’d fill my garden with edibles;
then I’d grow something to eat;
planting all kinds of vegetables;
including some that are sweet.
Nothing to fill my stomach lasts;
it cannot alter that which is me.
I’d do better to simply fast;
then a slimmer sinner I’d be.
I could spread the beauty of flowers;
their loveliness; my contrition imply;
their scent would remain for hours;
till finally all the flowers would die.
Maybe I’d plant it full of roses;
and give them the greatest of care;
but the problem this flower poses;
its thorns lead to more despair.
It seemed that my garden was no good;
promising no helpful endeavor.
I needed a seed which, planted would,
grow quickly and last forever.
Seeking answers; to God I was driven;
and He answered me from above:
If you really want, forgiven;
then I command that you plant Love.