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The Man With the Rose
Did he wear a bowler hat?
Did he get down on one knee?
Was he not much to look at
Yet the first you longed to see?
I have searched high and low,
Studied the faces driving cars,
Stowed away with cargo,
Pretended I can’t open jars.
Journeying through vagabond hearts
Has many times been cause for grief,
Yet the centuries of false starts
Have still not shaken my belief.
I call on those of you who came before,
The ones who knew heaven in advance -
Please guide my steps, show me what to look for
Among the tuxedos at this dance.
I’ve walked the Hollywood Hills,
Backpacked through the Great Smokey mountains,
Taken more than my share of pills
And tossed lucky pennies in fountains.
I’ve clinked glasses with Grand Viziers
And toiled building pyramids in the Luxor sun,
Bowed on stages to rousing cheers
And reckoned with enemies I could not outrun.
Often I have left only to return
Once more to the work that has not been done,
For although I blister I never burn
And soon there will be a round I have won.
I have lived lifetimes, and for all of those
I'm still searching for the man with the rose.
