Metaphysician, Heal Thyself

A pinch of stardust laced and lured
The past will surely now be cured
By passing time and trance in rhyme
By punishment to suit the crime
With clock-tower mind and bell-bottom heel
Slide on by with the ability to feel
The future’s bright call, the light in the sky
The passing of days in the blink of an eye
The regenerative force of blackened trees
The cries of nations on their knees
Arise from the ashes of phoenix cliché
Soar over canyons of the mind’s disarray
Call to the echo that does not repeat
Settle your bones in the mercy seat
Attach the electrode without aid from your keepers
And fry like an egg on infinity’s beaches
Wish upon wish upon day upon day
I don’t believe you’re really gonna make me pay
For the trips and the slips and the black tongue wagging
For the pointed fingers and dark doubts nagging
For the days between stations on the platform of hope
For the effigies and talismans carved out of soap
For the etchings and itching that irritate your soul
For the shovel of words for digging that hole
Arise Lazarus, arise and be free
Head for the hills before they nail you to that tree
And paint you in green, blue or possibly red
Box you and label you and leave you for dead
Rise on the wings of all that you know
Gather yourself in the words that you grow
From the whispers of thought, from the seeds of desire
And burn your white light in reality’s fire

October 2006