Theresa Haffner (August 25,1945 / Plainwell, Michigan)
"You can't trust anyone under 50."
- -the author.
(Dedicated to the psychedelic experience as epitomized by
San Francisco's Haight Ashbury,1965-69)
Now our Anthem in the Sun
Before our race is finally run
Before our time on Earth is done
Before life's last ounce is wrung
From the anvil press of time.
Sometimes I feel like I'm fixin' to die.
The months, the days, the years go by,
Caught in the Gordian knot we tie.
These are supposed to be the best
years of out lives.
Too stubborn to quit, too tired to try
The many things we've left undone.
There must be a way to make the pieces fit,
To make sense of the puzzle of it.
There must be some closure to this quest
And some time to enjoy the rest
Of our days upon this planet Earth.
They say there are seasons to the life
And now is to reflect and wonder why.
And what's been done, what went awry.
And what can be salvaged yet withall.
I had put my faith in the divine plan.
Make me worthy, I'll do what I can.
There must be something greater than
This insignificant life I'm living.
Rise above and it appeared.
There was a force guiding us here.
Permeating all that is or was
Or has yet to become.
A divine purpose grand
Could be read in seaweed,
tea leaves, grains of sand,
I Ching pennies. starry skies,
A mile high over Colorado nights,
The continent criss crossed in cars,
The motors throbbing, speeding far,
Piloted by sleepless eyes,
Fueled by psychedelic highs,
In the swirling madness of the time.
The eyes are windows of the soul.
The spirit cleansed, the eyes behold.
And there it was, you could see it was so.
How perfectly the pieces fit,
And everything a part of it,
Swirling in a cosmic dance.
Undulating particles of form,
Matter's vibratory nature swarmed.
And through it all, a dragon's tail.
Within the helix of its flail,
A serpent coil that unified
The stars, the sea, the sand, the sky.
I saw it with my own two eyes.
And how we felt life had a meaning,
As if this force, this palpable energy
Could be felt and even seen
Merging with infinity,
Unlocked by a chemical key,
Peyote, mescaline, L.S.D.,
Purveyed by prophets of the creed,
Proselytized, given sacramentally,
And yes, it was there. All of it was there.
We were not alone, but a whole generation massed
Lent our energies to the task,
Prepared for some purpose greater than,
A time of miracles began.
The stars a mandala dancing overhead,
The city lights a protoplasmic glyph instead,
Opening like a million eyes
Consciousness linked like myriad lights
Winking on one light at a time.
Enlightenment kindling psychedelic fires
As if our ego having died
Had been reborn to a higher life.
A new soul looking through our eyes,
One capable of love.
But that was so many years ago.
A lifetime, more, when we were young.
To know so little now more than before,
And time has been a bitter reward.
So many of us have already died,
And those of us who have survived,
Dispersed, discredited, despised,
Are scattered to the winds.
A revolution overthrown, repressed,
By a government oppressed
A nation occupied,
A population in denial,
Forced to recant to survive,
Even Bob Dylan Christianized,
Our leaders murdered, jailed, or in disrepute,
Until even the memories become confused,
Until even we are not sure of the truth,
Until even we start to not believe.
Did it really happen, was it real?
Or was it like the truth concealed,
A hallucination of the mind?
There must again be a gathering of the tribes,
To come together at least one more time.
For those of us who can remember,
To discuss, report, symposia,
To compare, to speak, to formulate
a- -gospel- -now
Before it's too late.
At last to know for sure.
Was it a time when God walked with us within?
A time which will never come again?
Or were we mistaken?
Was it just a dream from which
we could not awaken?
(If so, was it worth it just to believe?
For that alone has made it worth the while
- Theresa Haffner
Poet's Notes about The Poem
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