Metaphysical Breakthrough: Death is a Perfection

This summer has seen many forms of perfection manifested in my backyard including the shimmer of the sun on Sebastian's obsidian coat, Matt's infinitely comfortable lawnchair, the sculpture known as "Capitalism", and last but foremost The Perfect Garden. But as summer wanes, so do the lifegiving rays of the sun and with them the health of The Perfect Garden. The stalks of my tomato plants grow weaker with each day, the leaves fade from their former viridescence, and fecundity has given way to sterility. Even the hearty banana pepper plants have begun to evidence their mortality. I anticipate that my empiricist detractors may consider this an objection to the professed perfection of my garden. But to my would-be opponents I respond in advance that what we witness is not a violation of the principle of perfection. There can be but one conclusion to be drawn on the eve of my garden's demise:

Death is a Perfection.

For how could a perfect being fail to be perfect? Necessarily, a perfect being is perfect and its attributes great-making qualities. Therefore, death, a quality exemplified by The Perfect Garden, too, is a great-making quality. Do not lament the fate of my garden. Perfection should not be the cause of grief, but something to be celebrated.