Now, when my eyes grow full of my death,
I smile, if a little sadly, knowing that you,
My son, will hold these words within
Yourself long after I have fled. My son,
Who is on earth, beloved be your name.
Take love to every face, to every burning
Hate and every dull flame of apathy; take
Passion and charity and play to the darkest
Wells of our eyes, the coldest songs of our
Appetites. Break walls with the spirit of
Your voice. Shine light into the ditches and
The lee of every stone, find caterpillars with
The fingers of your mind, coax them into
Divine beings, watch in wonder as they fly.
And lead our suffering to redemption, as it
Is in Heaven, as it is in the quiet of the mind.