Here alone with all I profess
A faith, a belief in some systems of thought
Professors and priests, mystics and bards
All were often one I confess.
There were some unlettered men
Who knew more than the savants, then
There were bards who could sing and swear
And find their way to your heart there.
There were wild poppies dancing
Wild horses prancing
The teacher of all I know
Came for a few  seasons
Then went for his own benighted reasons.
There was  life’s blood and show
The poetry and pain and pageantry's stream
Whirled around in a fevered dream
Life was what it did not seem
Thus taught the  teacher of all I know.