You may well think you are alone;
Gethsemane your home-
away from home you wander,
To some place farther yonder,
Where there is no pain neither at temple nor at war.
Trapped though you may be,
And as the rope loosens, you see
Angels through the trees-
Dismissing them as crazy
Still in your mind, you are alone-
Alone you sit, adrift in the space;
Made for you and by you, and by
The universe too.
There is no guilty party here-
So in Gethsemane don’t fear.
In this world there is make believe;
Though through belief reality becomes real-
So believe that you are cradled-
No matter how alone you feel.
So as you make it out of Gethsemane;
And your wandering yonder ends the tests;
Simply remember you were cradled through-
And to forget all the rest.