I’d ask of you to take a walk,
Part your sweet lips and to me talk.
Your sacred mysteries unlock
But would you mock, but would you mock?
My still innocent, aching brain,
That is as fresh as spring’s first rain,
Will its ignorance cause you pain?
Could you remain, could you remain
By my side as I ask of you
Questions you hold the answers to?
As knowledge I vainly pursue
How it is true, how is it true?
That waking, you look down below,
And sprawled beneath your glass window,
A young morning glory does grow
With such a glow, with such a glow
With more wonder than the pages
Of physics from the ages
Complied by ancient sages
Wisdom’s wages, wisdom’s wages?
Perhaps I have lived too few nights
To expect to see with your sight
In dismal worlds of black and white
Your colors bright, your colors bright.
Mr. Whitman, I’m in the dark
As we tread slowly through the park.
But I will absorb your remarks,
Journey embark, journey embark.
If you could, from my closed eyes,
Remove the lids of former lies
Until I clearly see the skies…
Then say goodbye, then say goodbye.