Some sixty years ago today
I took the habit of a monk
Face down on the floor I lay
And spoke a cloudy vow
I shortly couldn't keep
The sixties intervened
Like the sunny Renaissance after
The dogmatic Middle Ages
And I was given a small farm
A wife and a child both fine
A whole precocious heaven
With a woods where I
Could roam the rest
Of my life away
But you had other plans for me
Whoever you are
Carefully and patiently
Still homeward urging me
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