Rest in Peace, My Loved One, Rest in Peace

Rest in peace, my loved one, rest in peace,
Eternally, essentially at rest.
Sleep the sleep of those who do not dream,
The dark oblivion that knows no pain.
Interred within my heart, you will remain
Neither fixed nor flowing with the stream,
Part me, part you, part child by angels blessed,
Embraced by those in whose arms sorrows cease.
All my wakeful nights, my days distressed,
Called to account, your slumber will redeem,
Even as I haunt you once again.
Several Days Before I Was to Die
Several days before I was to die
A white dove flew into my garden.
It had one black spot on its tail,
As if a drop of ink had soiled
Its purity. It looked at me
As birds do: head sideways,
Neck twisted, almost upside down;
Then went the other way, fluttered,
Cooed, straightened, and stared at me
With more than human stillness. Our eyes
Met, and I felt some understanding
Pass between us, as if it sensed
I was to die and felt compassion.
And then I knew that I would live.
Weeks after my miracle
The dove returned, nesting near me,
An ordinary bird. Of course
I hold it dear. But who lived in
Its eyes? Whose compassion sent
The silent thoughts that turned my will?
I know my own imagination
May have spoken through the bird,
Lifting me from death. But surely
What we'll never understand
Far surpasses what we know.
The dove knows more than we. And I,
Returned from death, am like a boulder
Lifted up and left upon the shore
By some majestic wave.
Some Losses Seem to Augur Endless Night
Some losses seem to augur endless night,
Years and years of darkness unrelieved.
Mourning knows no morning, nor does pain,
Peeling like a bell through windswept rain,
As those who grieve have cause to be aggrieved.
Take comfort, then, in hand-held candlelight,
However dim or distantly perceived,
Yet shining with what hope might hope regain.
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A Gift's Been Given in Your Loved One's Name

A Gift's Been Given in Your Loved One's Name
A gift's been given in your loved one's name
Through which some bit of good may come of sorrow.
Life is something all of us must borrow,
Returning it, in time, to whence it came.
Pleased be assured that it will be well used,
As every gift that sings of love and light
Will render things less wrong, though never right;
For gifts of morning ought not be refused.
After My Father Gave Me His Blessing
After my father gave me his blessing
For the first time, saying, "God bless you"
As I left him to the darkness,
He held me there and kissed my hand.
For the first time saying, "God bless you"
In all the years that I had loved him,
He held me there and kissed my hand,
And the child shivered with delight.
In all the years that I had loved him,
We understood no need to speak.
The child shivered with delight;
The man in silence turned away.
We understood no need to speak
As I left him to the darkness.
The man in silence turned away
After my father gave me his blessing.
Audrey
Audrey died within my arms,
Undone in infancy.
Despite my helplessness, I felt
Resplendent dignity.
Each soul's a naked gift of grace,
Yet loved by us and Thee.
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Maybe Underneath the Bed Is Sadness

Maybe Underneath the Bed Is Sadness
Maybe underneath the bed is sadness,
Even in the ecstasy of life,
Rejoicing in the gift of man and wife,
Reveling in existential gladness.
Yes, maybe at the heart of things a madness
Cuts through the flesh of pleasure like a knife,
Harrowing the soul with inner strife,
Replacing good with unrepentant badness.
If so, reason not with your despair;
So deep a wound requires deeper healing,
Too deep for any deft divining rod.
More than meaning, you are simply there,
A wonder steeped in incandescent feeling,
Still wrapped in swaddling clothes, the child of God.
Maybe We Need Another Miracle
Maybe we need another miracle.
Each epoch ought to have one of its own,
Reducing skeptics to a single groan,
Renewing faith with evidence empirical.
Yes, we need fresh testimony lyrical,
Changing hearts that else would change to stone,
Healing those who, hearing, would atone,
Replacing reason with a canticle.
If only God would visit us again,
Showing us for sure His patient love,
Taking on our sins a second time!
Maybe we could be quite certain then,
Ablaze with what our faith would outright prove,
So for ourselves to witness the sublime.
Meaning Has No Meaning Without Love
Meaning has no meaning without love,
Elevating sentience to desire.
Reason has no reason to approve
Revelation unsustained by fire.
Yearn, then, with the recklessness of burning,
Coming hungry to the Christmas table,
Holding tight the objects of your yearning,
Ready to find kings within the stable.
In you there is a love that brings to being
Such beauty as you cannot hope to see,
Too simple and too glorious for seeing,
Making it a sacrament to be.
As love gives wings their will and words their song,
So may it give you faith your whole life long.
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My Mom Is Very Sweet

My Mom Is Very Sweet

My mom is very sweet and always caring.
She worries about me when I am in school.
She makes sure that I get where I am going
On time so that I don't feel like a fool.
She cares whenever I pick on my younger brother.
She cares whenever he or I get hurt.
She cares whenever I score a goal in soccer.
She cares about the buttons on my shirt.

But best of all, my mom loves all of us
Who live with her, both when we're good and bad.
She makes me happy with a hug and kiss
And holds my hand whenever I am sad.
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