Don't call me collect --God
Perhaps on some golden throne
alive in the sky, you watch over each of us
--rain warm love, bathing one by one
man and sparrow with most tender care
Or, like a child at play
did you make the clock your grand experiment?
then, called to dinner, you plan to be back at eight
wondering if we'll still be tocking
Are you a big ashen bearded daddy?
with all the answers up there
will you spank us forever if we don't believe?
Maybe you're a cosmic hippie
you say "Hey don't you remember?
ten thousand years ago
we all stood at Salisbury in ecstasy"
Then, with hand to forehead you say
"Or maybe it was nineteen seventy-one
you know, all that acid still gets to me"
Are you a wrinkled old man?
stuttering, the very edge of senility
you wait at the gate, white picket complacency
We come home for a hug and obligatory visit
the younger playing Grandfather for a free dime
Perhaps you are a crone, ancient and wise
living in rock, road, brook, and tree
You made a hard, wondrous, magical land
where stumbling, we acolytes slowly learn of beauty
With fire on your finger tips
maybe you throw lightning bolts
make floods, cause the sky to darken
Perhaps you'll let five thousand faithful in
"All the rest be damned!" you say as the earth quakes
Perhaps one time, some time, ever time
we'll be sitting in the park, you and I
Muhammad, Gautama and Einstein play dice across the way
cool green grass, white daisies, blue sky, shade trees
I say, "You know, I wondered always if you were a figment"
You say, "Don't we all, my friend, begin and end in fantasy?"
Perhaps on some golden throne
alive in the sky, you watch over each of us
--rain warm love, bathing one by one
man and sparrow with most tender care
Or, like a child at play
did you make the clock your grand experiment?
then, called to dinner, you plan to be back at eight
wondering if we'll still be tocking
Are you a big ashen bearded daddy?
with all the answers up there
will you spank us forever if we don't believe?
Maybe you're a cosmic hippie
you say "Hey don't you remember?
ten thousand years ago
we all stood at Salisbury in ecstasy"
Then, with hand to forehead you say
"Or maybe it was nineteen seventy-one
you know, all that acid still gets to me"
Are you a wrinkled old man?
stuttering, the very edge of senility
you wait at the gate, white picket complacency
We come home for a hug and obligatory visit
the younger playing Grandfather for a free dime
Perhaps you are a crone, ancient and wise
living in rock, road, brook, and tree
You made a hard, wondrous, magical land
where stumbling, we acolytes slowly learn of beauty
With fire on your finger tips
maybe you throw lightning bolts
make floods, cause the sky to darken
Perhaps you'll let five thousand faithful in
"All the rest be damned!" you say as the earth quakes
Perhaps one time, some time, ever time
we'll be sitting in the park, you and I
Muhammad, Gautama and Einstein play dice across the way
cool green grass, white daisies, blue sky, shade trees
I say, "You know, I wondered always if you were a figment"
You say, "Don't we all, my friend, begin and end in fantasy?"
No comments:
Post a Comment