For Dear Mark, a rare flower.

I have sinned once more
Walked too far from the shore
Waxed a fever of shame
Blackened even Your good name
Yet they tell me You remain Pure
Each blessing somehow remains good
A prayer never goes unanswered
Father, You are always giving me chances
Your tender touch makes me greater than before
You are waiting at and as the Door
So come Great and Eternal
Rise from the earth vernal and youth
You are some kind of beautiful flower
that dies and passes, to give rise to the fruit
And as the bright flower of The Flame rises
to give life to the vapours of spirit
So Your body has ascended
from the word and risen in to wit
.