Oh my soul. I do not know what to do.
My heart, it is held hostage in this game,
Of hoping,  waiting for shadows that grew.
Of excitement for feelings I can name.
I am a searcher seeking to posses.
One soul that I can mould into my own.
One heart that I can keep without a guess,
Of what she sees when she is not alone.
In soft mercy I hope for what is mine,
Shall grow and develop into our love.
For this is the seeking which fills my time;
This is the mystery that I speak of.

Oh my soul. How gently I see you  peek
at the wonderful passion I do seek.

Oh, Bride of Christ, celestial body,
Oh Holy, Mother Church.
You, gift of God, channel us
in our upwards search.

Holder of all truth, keeper
of God's gracious Eucharist.
Immaculate Mary , Mother of God,
Protector of glowing witness.

Beloved Mass, beloved Litanies,
Keeper of the Flame of Faith.
Blessed Church, who guides
Our seeking of love to taste.

Path of salvation gently laid.
God’s most gracious gift to man,
Sacred Body of Christ,
Through you how blest I am

You know, I''m not sure how I should feel.
Part of me is dragged in sadness at your death,
the other part of me is glad you are not suffering.
These past few years have not been good for you.
What I admired, though, was your resilience.
A strong man with values of another time.
You believed in hope, in a destiny of optimism,
in knowing that, with time, everything heals.
Even though you succumbed to peaceful death,
I know that you are still alive in Heaven's glory.
I wonder if you knew how much I loved you?
Fathers and sons do not tend to mention this.
That stupid man code of not showing emotion.

When I was a little boy, you were a role model.
Though we did not share the same interests,
we did manage to find things to do together.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table,
working together to assemble model cars.
Or when we went for rides to get soft ice cream.
You always told me "don't tell your Mother!"
and I gloried in this tasty secret that was ours.

I cannot even list all the ways you helped me.
As I grew from boy to man, married, children,
you were still my rock which I depended upon.
I'm going to miss chatting with you, talking
about this and that, sharing our time together.
I liked hearing your stories of your early life.
How you met Mom, how you pursued her.
I look at old pictures of you in the 1950's
The Elvis Presley haircut, the sideburns and all.
Those must have been great times for you.

So we have come to the end, how very sad.
I saw you in your coffin, and yes, I wept.
Thinking how much I was going to miss you.
I realize you are with Mom now, a happy place.
You have missed her very much since she died.
Daddy, Dad, I love you. I will always do so.

You can hear silence, if you listen.
        Stop your breathe and tap
          into the empty.

Oh chalice of hope, too often
        left unfilled, drain
          the resistance.

Lie back, close the thoughts
        and open your eyes.
Believing does not
        require seeing.

Allow sentence after sentence
        to remain unanswered.
Be unrestricted enough
        to not be alarmed.

Fountain of ice, melt away
        and liquefy into sharp
          pencils of vision.

Sighing in peace, letting
        the lace curtains of
          contentment to rise.

Skin to be stroked
        with the developing
        essence of being
        in contemplative mode.

You can hear silence, if you listen.
        Listen now.

Would the moon cease to exist if you go?
Would my heart stop beating in sheltered joy?
Will you decide to not let your love show,
Or perhaps humble self in terms of coy.
Would you not leave body pale and cold?
Would not the green grass fade to memory,
That feeds the fiendish, daring demon fold?
Become seconds in time embracing me.
Your smile still frolics in my trembling heart,
Where magic ends, and where magic begins.
Your touch still memorized in my one start,
That carries on with past glories and sins.

So often I find intentions confused,
Your embraces can never again diffuse.

I'm a wounded chalice, filled with thoughts
of redemption; of forgiveness within.
Roaming through my failing happiness
like a whisper from a winter's icy wind.

My thoughts have turned to daze long ago,
when I felt as pure and innocent as an infant.
Remembering the desires held like crystal;
delicate glass which shatters in an instant

Tears won't come, I am too deeply ingrained
into the mindset that big boys never cry.
Instead, I close down my emotional valves,
letting my despair come out in a silent sigh.

I would, if I could, embrace a dangling hope
of glowing rainbows filtered through my rain.
Letting the whisking whispers of contentment
filter like diamonds into my emotional plain.

It is not meant to be, that I now see; for instead
the undertaker will measure my containment.
The drooping silence will become my friend,
and I shall enter into a rusted sense of spent.

I have nothing left to offer, no words which may
bring anyone a ******* of beggared desires.
Though my body like a knife, pleads for release,
I shall instead build myself a black funeral pyre.

(Loosely based on prayers from The Canadian Book of Common Prayer. 1962)

Almighty God, creator of Heaven and Earth,
You who sustains all things in all ways;
Send to me Your Holy Spirit that I may
always feel Your presence around me.
Guide me in all things, especially so at
this time of suffering. Father of all, I
commend my immortal soul to You.
Wrap it in Your arms and let me feel
your eternal love always within me.
In times when I feel strained and weak,
send strength to me. Sustain my heart
so that it beats only in Your solace.
Gracious Father, in so many ways
I have consumed myself with the
desires of the flesh; forgetting that
these are but transient pleasures
that will not elicit eternal salvation.
Almighty God, to whom all hearts
are open, all desires known: Cleanse
my thoughts from sin by the power
of Your inspiration. Create in me,
through Your holy name, the
understanding to see You are
always with me, at all times and
in all situations. I commend myself
always to You, through Christ our Lord.