I found myself in bed with an old man
He showed me where my soul dwelt and its light
He thinks we can be holy, and we can
Especially when we love with all our might
I found myself at a loose end today
Walking in the rain in my wool coat
I didn’t know what else to do but pray
There was holy water but no boat
I found my self and knew I was a poet
For I had a pen behind my ear
Useful for the images I wrought
Out of words and into sentence dear
Nowadays it’s harder for the young
No tablet fits behind the ear or on the tongue
I guess one might well sing it like a song
When we hear the bells of heaven ring
I found myself in photos on the news
I look like the terrorist who schemed
Ah ahah,they’d need me like a bruise
I am I, a figment of their dreams
On the whole I’d rather lose myself
In a novel or in tender arms
What about our spiritual health
Let us feel the holy love that calms
Losing, finding, what is it we seek?
If we are a self, are we unique?
I read Latin,Hebrew,even Greek
I forgot that human beings want to speak
