Long-haired hippie of the golden coast,
Disciple of wisdom and all that's free,
Preach to orphans destined for light,
Show them the way from trauma and abuse,
Neglect sedated by drugs of wonderment,
Miracles in the mind turned to healing.
Hitchhiking gypsy wearing tattered cloth,
Shoeless yet radiant in the sunset's calm,
Baptize these lost children, that they may be saved
From the dark machine's firm grip.
Seek the elders who misunderstand, castigate,
Yet care in ways only you could reveal.
Rejoice in the delicacy of their illusions,
Pry them open with parables and proverbs.
On the mountain you sit, the wind on your face,
Talking with your father, who commands
You to unite them, who wishes to use you
The untarnished vagabond above the fault,
Destitute of vice despite the hardship-
This the truest miracle in all you perform-
You must be his voice, yes, in the calm golden light,
Fingertips of sunlight bathing your skull,
Wrapping you in warmth with the city's heartbeat.
You will wander those freeways, an answer to prayers,
Forsaken once the Word got out,
Content beyond measure to have served
Divine teachings where the ocean is reborn.
No comments:
Post a Comment