I’m no better than anyone else
but neither am I any worse
We are all dealt a mixed plate
to start with
plus a double sized entrée of mirth
Equiped with both hindsight and foresight
We journey all over the earth
It’s when feet warm the ground in our journey
that the pudding is proved of its worth
the I that I am is not really me
I do what I do,
it is me, yes, it’s me
but the things that I do
though I speak for myself
are the voice of the ancestors
invisible on my shelf
those who went before
even before I was there,
those of the past
in both joy and dispair
who laid down the tracks
on which I walk today
and echo the songs
in the same ancient way
from fathers to sons
are the deeds that we do
it is we, not just me
it is they, not just you
what I say, what I do
though I choose to be me
it is not I alone
it is them that you see
of those who speak
both silent and loud
who shout out in deeds
from behind the dark shroud
from fathers to sons
are the deeds that we do
it is we, not just me
it is they, not just you
what I say, what I do
it is easily done,
it is me, it is me
I pray I’m not being undone
the faithful skeptic 