If only I could

If I could have your shoulder again,
I would soak it with my tears.
If I could have your lap again,
There I would lay my fears.

If I could hear your voice again,
I would stop still and listen.
If I could see your smile again,
With joy my world would glisten.

My love of music I got from you,
My passion for books was yours too.
Your gentleness lives on in my heart,
Nature and beauty a lovely part.

The trees you planted grow tall and strong,
The house you built weathers on and on.
Your presence I sense in the fragrant scene,
When you left, you became one with me.

Eulogy

Your hand on my head is gentle still,
Your kiss on my forehead tender,
Heartfelt are your blessings still,
Your love as always overfull.

Why would I weep and moan and groan,
And rend my clothes asunder?
From this useless shell, empty and worn,
Oh gentle spirit, long have you flown.

Death may have pulled a trick on us.
And torn this bond asunder,
But how can there be a goodbye
When I hold you deep inside?

My place of worship

I have a litle forest in my backyard, tall trees grow close together along with ferns and bamboo and flowering bushes and the ground is carpeted with brown, rotting leaves. On sunny days, sunlight slants in and lights up the spaces in between. Leaves rustle in the still air and sometimes birds call in lilting cadences. This is my place of worship. The trees standing tall are the columns of the temple and the bushes are the altars. The birds are the unrehearsed choir and the camelias are the offerings. Here my soul bows to a gentle presence, here my soul sings His rhapsody, here I touch His soft-footed feet, here I find my God.