Everything has come to this.
\nI simply write verses in my car.
\nI do a job which insults my intelligence.
\nI have come in a linear line
\ndown through the ages,
\nalthough I have no gray hair to speak of.
\nIt has its own words.
\nI won\u2019t waste mine.<\/p>\n
But it has come to this.
\nI have constructed
\na strange cathedral inside myself.
\nIt has porticos,
\nand windows,
\nand dark, stony corners,
\nall made of the invisible,
\nall made of atoms lighter than air.
\nIts works of art and devotion
\nare known only intuitively,
\nand they are in endless composition,
\nas long as I live and no longer.<\/p>\n
So it has come to this.
\nA plain Ohio man,
\nwho\u2019s never been anywhere,
\nor done anything,
\nexcept he fell in love remarkably,
\nand had remarkable children,
\nand wondered how it all came about
\nas he painted his soul.
\nAnd composed his words,
\nand examined his nails,
\nand understood,
\nlife is a miraculous God gift.<\/p>\n
And it has come to this,
\na place, a job,
\nan horizon that insults common sense,
\nbut thanks the invisible cathedral,
\nthe intangible presence.
\nIt\u2019s appreciated.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Everything has come to this. I simply write verses in my car. I do a job which insults my intelligence. I have come in a…<\/p>\n