541 - To Oregon Flowers

Your flowers framed my zealotry. How soft

you were upon my sin. How could you stay

while how so heartlessly, and how so oft

I crushed your other virtues on my way?

Your flowers followed me, e’en as I strayed

beyond the path, and missed your mission’s mark.

Your love you should have handily belayed,

when I would not your heavenly voice hark.

But still your flowers grew. And I grew, too.

Is that it? Is that why you chose to stay?

Beside my heresy, your virtue knew

my heart would not accept to stay that way?

And that is what you framed. You followed not

the zealot, but the heart that zealot brought.