A Gardener scatters seeds on the earth-Each taking root in a different spot-With the end goal of having enough worth-To grace the Master's table in a pot.-Beautiful flowers are these that were bought-Having no blemish, yet at a great price-To the Gardener who lovingly sought-To please His Master and commit no vice-Even offer Himself up as a sacrifice.                                                                                                                                               And so after a lot of time and care-Those small seeds grew into vibrant flowers-Each one unique and in its own way fair.-Yet some wanted more and others power-Until finally there came the hour-When dissension arose like a fire-Which caused some of the flowers to cower-And others to think themselves higher-Even believe the Gardener was a liar.                                                                                                                                                        And this all began due to one small mind-Whose name was Salvia, of pretty face-And although appeared to be very kind-He believed he could easily outpace-Everyone else, but this was not the case.-He told all the flowers to follow him-Some of which did, leaving without a trace,-Following a foolhardy flower's whim-Who away from the Gardener began to dim.                                                                                                                                                Paradise lost, a broken and torn heart,-Yet the Gardener carried on each day-With the same plan for those who did not part-To nurture and strengthen and show the way-Until one day they will forever stay-At the Master's table, which is their prize-For being obedient not to stray-And not succumbing to Salvia's lies,-Constantly focusing on the Master's eyes.                                                                                                                                                       Oh what a joyous bright day that will be- When those who have never wavered stand tall-The choicest flowers being filled with glee-For now they have finished the race in all-And should not worry for they will not fall-For there will be no more droughts, floods, or weeds-And the Master will commend with the call-"Despite your overwhelming wants and needs,-You finished the race, well done good and faithful seeds!"