E. T., CALL HOME
It’s all, it’s all, it’s all miraculous—
That even here is here is Here:
The Earth, the animals, and mainly us,
That out of cosmic chaos we’d appear!
And yet we take for granted this great feat
Of most incredible cosmogyny,
A process I’d suppose is not complete,
And may extend into infinity.
It cannot be this All has not been planned
By some Intelligence beyond our kind,
A power and intellect and love so grand—
An infinitely manifesting Mind.
As far as living creatures rove and roam,
Our prime imperative is to call Home.