My Sweet Lord

From the tower I watched late-spring cumulus make shadow plays across the rolling, checkerboard Chiltern Hills and dreamed of another rhino chase with Prabhupad, over the far horizon. What was I doing? Why was I at Friar Park? Why wasn’t I out with the other devotees spreading Krishna consciousness like I should be? I reasoned that I was there to be the part-time spiritual companion to one of the world’s great rock stars, working in the man’s garden. But was that important? One morning at about 6 a.m., I’m eating some porridge and a Mercedes sedan roars up and parks outside the kitchen door. George, Billy Preston, and Klaus Voorman clump in, boisterous and full of energy from an all-night recording session for All Things Must Pass. Billy immediately sits down at the organ in the kitchen and thumps out this wild gospel melody. George and Klaus grab guitars and plug them into the little amps. They sing, “My Sweet Lord, oooh My Lord, Halle-lu-ya, Halle-lu-ya.” George breaks in with,“Ha-re Krish-na, Ha-re Krish-na!” Pretty soon we’re all dancing around and singing at the top of our lungs, the rising sun bathing us in rosy golden light. “This one’s gonna be on the new album,” George says. I realize yes, it’s important to stay here at Friar Park.