It is not he or she or them or it That you belong to. - Bob Dylan

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail,
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder,
That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind,
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind,
An' the poet and the painter far behind his rightful time
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

And I'll tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it.

America was changing. I had a feeling of destiny and I was riding the changes... My consciousness was beginning to change, too, change and stretch.