I am, I guess, a transcendentalist
And may have been since reading Emerson
And in my freshman year at Yale being blissed
By something mystical not yet undone.
Though long since faded in intensity,
That ecstasy still echoes in my mind,
Enthusing me with a propensity
To seek the source by which we are designed.
“One Mind” some name it now, as well as “Source,”
Depersonalizing our traditional “God,”
Which nonetheless designs the cosmic course,
If not exactly ruling with a rod.
These days I feel it most when writing verse,
Inspired by a medium that’s terse.