Old and Good Friends Share a Piece

Old and good friends share a piece
Of passion, pain, and pleasure
That no one else, no family can
Begin to know or treasure.
It's as if a secret room
Held their private store,
And every time they met, they could
Go through some special door.
It doesn't matter if they see
Each other every day,
Or years and years go by before
They come and go away:
The moment that they meet it all
Is there--the memories of
Fierce loyalty and times of need
And gratitude and love.
Our Friendship Is as Close as Closest Sisters
Our friendship is as close as closest sisters,
Two flutes with a single melody,
Interchanging runs through changing vistas,
Notes like birds alighting on a tree.
To some, friends are like books upon a shelf;
Yet you to me are like another self.
This music will not stop for other misters,
Nor will it pause for princes, real or elf.
However life may wend, we will be we.

Thank You for You: For Who You Are
Thank you for you: for who you are,
However far away;
And for the words you send to me,
Near mad for what you say.
Knowing simply that you're there,
Yet thinking much of me,
Opens up my happiness,
Undone for all to see.
Thank You for Your Friendship and Your Love
Thank you for your friendship and your love.
However life may turn, this gift will be
A mountain that has made my river bend,
Nor will it flow the same way to the sea.
Knowing you is something I'm made of.
Years will not this part of me remove.
One lives for just a brief eternity,
Understanding truths that never end.
There Is in Friendship Just a Bit of Eden
There is in friendship just a bit of Eden,
Harboring our early innocence,
Acting out of pleasure in our pleasure,
Not calculating cost or recompense,
Knowing the abundance that we breed in.
Your friendship is a book that I may read in,
Opening a truth I cannot measure
Unless it be with signs or sacraments.
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Fathers Need Not Fathers Be

Fathers need not fathers be.
All one needs to do is choose
To love for life, and that embrace,
Held long and hard, bestows the grace
Each craves. For all in time must lose,
Restored alone by memory.
So now it is with you and me.
Father's Day Without You Is like Music
Father's Day without you is like music
Muted by a distance undisturbed.
It is so faint I cannot tell the feeling,
Though I myself am gripped with pensive sorrow.
I listen all the more for what I cannot
Hear, and you are somewhere close beside me.
"It's joy!" you say, and then I nod, unbending,
Listening still while weeping like fine rain.
Yes, it's joy, and you again are with me.
I turn to you, and I am in your arms.
The music is a rhapsody around me,
And I am safe again and free to cry.
It is so beautiful, I cannot stand it,
I am a torrent, shaking in my gladness,
And you recede, as distant as the music,
Smiling dimly far across the plain.
"Please, please!" I say, yet know that what I'm asking
No longer is. Your day will come and go,
And I will crave and fear its restless turning
Because my happiness must be my pain.
Fear Is the First Cause of Hesitation
Fear is the first cause of hesitation.
Actions are irrevocable; dreams fade.
There are, of course, good reasons, like a scrim
Hung across the darkness. Behind, within,
Each scene unseen directs the one that's played,
Rich stew of fear, desire, expectation.
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Fantasies, like Words, Await What's Real

Fantasies, like words, await what's real,
Anchored only when attached to things.
The dream of fatherhood, that long-sought dawn,
Has now become the light of early morn,
Exact and merciless in what it brings:
Riches to which one can only kneel.
'Mid all the truths the package will reveal,
Sensing well the wonder as it sings,
Drawing well the world to which it's drawn,
A love beyond all words will give you wings,
Yielding joys beyond what you can feel.
Fathers and Daughters Have a Romance
Fathers and daughters have a romance
That goes on for the rest of their lives,
Destined to ripen and age as they dance
Through the days of their husbands and wives.
Up near the surface their love is distinct,
Like a garden surveyed in the sun,
In which seedtime and full bloom are credibly linked
By a consciousness shared and hard won.
Deep down below, where the world is a dream,
And the dream is a world of its own,
All manner of memories the moments redeem
In a place where one's never alone.
Fathers Can Be Solitary Mountains
Fathers can be solitary mountains,
All their love rock-like, steep, and strong.
Though warm and caring, somehow they belong
Halfway home to mothers' bubbling fountains.
Each of us needs love that knows no quarter,
Reminding us of bonds that cross a border,
Strengthening our sense of right and wrong.

Fathers Cannot Fathers Be
Fathers cannot fathers be
Alone, no matter where they are.
There is no mountain range or sea
High or wide enough to bar
Each child from traveling within,
Reuniting oft with him,
Secret sharer from afar.

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Reason Is a Calling of the Heart

Reason is a calling of the heart.
One rarely reasons deeply but for love.
Best thought is passionate, a well-wrought art
Endeavoring to free as much as prove.
Remember me, then, for the many loves
That with reason I once sought to serve,
And the people that my spirit moved,
Returning far more joy than I deserved.
Eventually, all one gives one gains.
Years and people pass; the love remains.
Romeo and Juliet
Remember not the pathos of our plight
Or the tears of our too-youthful end.
Mourn us not, for we became a light,
Eden shining still through deathless night,
On all who first pure love would comprehend.
Judge us not, although we chose to die,
Undone by beauty such as few have known,
Love so perfect one could not reply
In words less meteoric than its own.
Each life must wend its way towards death and pain.
Though we died young, our story will remain.
Sinners All, We Ask for Your Forgiveness
Sinners all, we ask for Your forgiveness
As we await the hour of Your return.
If only grace were something one could earn!
Nor can we hope to imitate Your goodness.
The saints know well the hopelessness of being
Put upon the pedestal of faith
As though we had already gained Your grace.
The heart is naked to Your restless seeking.
Regard us all, then, equally with love:
In saints and vicious pederasts find lovers,
Cherishing not one above the others,
Knowing none has anything to prove.
So Few Realize What Life Is About
So few realize what life is about.
If I knew nothing else, I knew warmth, pleasure,
Despite everything, I knew love.
People look for what they can measure:
A degree, money, children they can brag about,
Reasons others might wish them mazel tov.
On days like other days were moments I treasured,
Life like other lives, humdrum, passing without
Yammering, with you, with the children, full, enough ...
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Clarity Is Something That I Savored

Clarity is something that I savored,
Lending reason to a worthy cause.
An uncommitted life is not worth living,
Relinquishing the claims for the rewards,
Embracing the illusions of the favored.
Remember me as one who never wavered,
Obeying stubbornly the highest laws,
Defending what had little chance of winning,
Not caring for the consequence, or giving
Even one brief glance at waiting jaws,
Yet loving well the world for which I labored.
Could I But Give You Comfort at My Death
Could I but give you comfort in my death,
How might I tell you what you meant to me?
All I did, both night and day, was love you,
Rulers of my kingdom and my heart.
Like gods, at last you claimed my painful breath,
Opening the door to mystery,
The final gift of all the gifts you gave me,
Taking what I could no longer give you
Even if I tried with all my art.
Death Came to Me While I Was at a Meeting
Death came to me while I was at a meeting,
Opened up my chest and wandered in.
Nor did it leave until a few days later,
Satisfied it need not come again.
It was a death both unforeseen and fitting,
Living as I did for what I did,
Being one averse to merely being,
Engaged in service to the world I would.
Remember me, then, as I was when death
Made its sudden entrance to my heart:
Attentive in my seat, my wife beside me,
Night come, the meeting just about to start.
Ever I Loved You, Though I Could Not Have You
Ever I loved you, though I could not have you.
Most of my life was lived in Charlotte's shadow.
I stalked the house, meowing, muttering,
Love my joy, my burden, and my sorrow.
Yet not in silence did I do without you.
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An Easter Blessing

Bless this day the joy of life,
The revelation of the flesh,
The paradise of man and wife
Joined to share the gift of bliss.
Bless this day the pain of life,
The passion that redeems the flesh,
The love between a man and wife
Beyond all agony and bliss.
Bless this day the end of life,
The peace within the dying flesh,
The bond between a man and wife
That long outlasts their bit of bliss.
Bless this day the whole of life,
The grace of being more than flesh,
The voyage of a man and wife
Across the mystery of bliss.
Believe, Believe in the Power of Love
Believe, believe in the power of love
To save us all from death and sin,
And God that way your heart will move.
Christ came to Earth to free us of
The state of vengeance we were in.
Believe, believe in the power of love
To change the heart from snake to dove,
To make dust bloom and goodness win,
And God that way your heart will move.
Christ arose from death to prove
That we a new life could begin.
Believe, believe in the power of love
To bring us to a life above,
A life of glory near to Him,
And God that way your heart will move.
Christ will all our sins remove
And make us feel His joy within.
Believe, believe in the power of love,
And God that way your heart will move.

Each Finds Happiness in Each
Each finds happiness in each
As love combines two lives.
So does Christ combine us all,
Those that rise and those that fall,
Each as faith contrives,
Regardless of belief.
Each of Us Must Know You Personally
Each of us must know You personally --
As friend or father, counselor, mentor, guide --
Someone we invite to come inside
That we might be Your witness literally,
Even of ourselves, though we may die,
Resurrected only eye-to-eye.
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