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.

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