Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned
Mothers of the city, for not having a clue how you live every day without water in your house
Mother Holy Spirit, for not truly walking in empathy
Mother planet, for not stewarding your precious resource
Mother City, for not acting in time
Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned
Cleanse me with hardship, I want to be cleansed
Although my lower back and arms ache with this lesson
Washing my family’s clothes by hand
With reused water from body washes, which will be reused again to flush
I welcome this ache which teaches empathy
Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned.
It would be more palatable to call it a sin of omission
But I have eyes and I have seen
the tens of thousands of shacks, tens of thousands of times
Where so many mothers of our city
have never had a washing machine or toilets that flush away
– that magical place called “away” -
Impoverished of empathy until the stench of my own family’s waste woke me up.
Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned
When I saw you lathering up at the showers at the beach
My ignorant indignation, “Why don’t they wash at home rather?”
Now I’m the one with shampoo at the public pool showers, washing my hair.
Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned.
How do you forgive a lifetime of long showers, water-guzzling washing machines, swimming pools and well-watered lawns?
A lifetime of using drinking water for flushing the toilet
Yes, this water crisis is political!
My own wastefulness caused this drought.
Forgive me Mother, as we humble ourselves
And turn from our wicked wasteful ways,
May the lessons etched into our muscles tired from carrying buckets
Stay with us when the rains finally come, in mercy.
