John Coltrane's Blues

The sound of a furtive
horn blows rejoicing
to my ears even after
all these years
no tears, no fears,
no surrender
the same old blues
searching for the sound
of a sound of a love
supreme by the grace
of God to whom all
praise is due for
leading us to richer
lives, that's where
it’s at, minds blown
in the real gone world
where the jewel is in
the lotus as Trane
retreats like Buddha
om, mani, pahdme, hum
oh, mercy, mercy, me