sin

SIN

From the depths of the sea,
From the base of the bin,

From the heels within me,
Come the stems of my sin.

In the thoughts that I think,
In the words that I say,

In the juice that I drink,
Creeps the sin of my way.

The sin shows in envy.
The sin shows in hate.

The sin shows jealously,
That my soul’s not first rate.

If I try to improve,
If I try to leave sin,

I’ll be back in the grove,
And with God once again.

©Lynnette Schuepbach, 1967