Lord,
have mercy on a man whose
hardest cross
we only glimpsed
was caring much
who all these days looked out
through the private scars
of wounded sight
have mercy on a weary heart
and haunted too we think
until remembering
itself became a shadow that
cast long across his face
his world
and into all to come
he thought
have mercy
for whether yet he knew your name
his hands knew well
and loved
the texture of our mind
Lord have mercy on a man
whose last work
chosen designed completed alone
was his own life
and that
he gave to you
In memory of Stan
Builder and craftsman