Morning Sermon

I come to the table.
Disciples blooming under God’s opulent eye:
Begonias of pomegranatecoloredosageorange.
Portulaca with lacy arms, fine as maidenhair.
Vincas of newborn pink.
Celosias with yellowtangerinemagenta spiked heads.
The Apostle Sansevieria tends them all.

We wait.

Then come the parishioners:
Black-eyed, winged, hymn-buzzing;
a dozen or so, more than a minion.
Buzzingbuzzing they sing on.
Copulating, fornicating mid air.
Floral aromas luring them to land.
Momentarily, black-eyed bodies grasp the screen.
I forcefully flick them away.
It is the sermon of flora and fauna,
and I say “Amen.”

Marea Needle
Little Falls, NY