Where My Father Went

It was a busy year for death

She crept about the palace

And we had poor defense

And she had little malice

A gentle touch put here

A sad and curt embrace

A wooden kiss enough

To put them in their place

So where my father went

Is not now common knowledge

The inventory was lent

To some old Cambridge college

I had little faith then

Nothing spoke to me

When what you see is gospel

The gospels can't free

And Krishna's conch is sunk

The lotus not in bloom

When Solomon's song unsung

And prayers are called too soon

So where my father went

Is wind against the mountain

His love was all but spent

So mine is as a fountain

All the fruit turn red

Some of them still green

But never will you see one

That's stuck and in between

As all came from a garden

Where the wind has died down low

And there my father went

To help the green fruit grow

He tends them with a smile

His fingers stroke the leaves

He'll never leave the garden

It's all that I believe