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The Temple

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Written by Kenneth Patchen

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 To leave the earth was my wish, and no will stayed my rising.
Early, before sun had filled the roads with carts Conveying folk to weddings and to murders; Before men left their selves of sleep, to wander In the dark of the world like whipped beasts.
I took no pack.
I had no horse, no staff, no gun.
I got up a little way and something called me, Saying, 'Put your hand in mine.
We will seek God together.
' And I answered, 'It is your father who is lost, not mine.
' Then the sky filled with tears of blood, and snakes sang.


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