He walked in bright beatific phantasies
That captured and enveloped his reality
Those fierce and fiery, fruitful visions
Came to splendorous fruition
When one morn the muse he summoned
To pour music from the rift of heaven
Straight down in to his thirsty mind
He is risen, no more blind
Roaming, roving like a rainbow
The wilderness is the place to go
Like a wanton, wanderlust bard
He traverses valleys and fathoms stars
Speaking to the universe
He communicates its joys in verse
Sees in symbols he cannot speak
Much madness from his ***** beak
Words and vision charged as lightning
His potency is such it's frightening
He is again another child
To the hinterlands of the soul exiled