O my sweet Beloved Lord and Savior
                that I greet in the daily bread,
                Instead of older forms
                you conform my body to yours,
                Through the meal divine you remind
                my faulty mind of things greater
                than conscious ploys or subtle toys
                of a world blind with pleasure
Let me measure my life through
                the lens of beautiful hours
                                                spent in prayer,
                that sprout tender flowers
                and fields of ripe devotion
                that love is as smooth as lotion
                                                to my fears
                its tears soften the crops of my emotions
                and my anxiety is stopped short
                of being weeds to the garden
                that the seeds sown in sorrow
                give joy to more fruitful tomorrows.
Second verse, same as the first
                how Adam’s curse is reversed
                by the God who mounted the Cross
                like the boss of a ship bound
                                                for salvation
                He dipped His life into the drowning
                                                waters of our humanity
                That strife became the High Priest’s vestments
                and divinity took the form of blood
                the tender flood of the altar
                that altered history by stripping knowledge
                                                of myth and illusion
                that man suffered the confusion of superstition
But now God himself is offered as his own petition
                greater than Abel or Abraham
                is the God who became a lamb for the slaughter,
O Pater Noster
                I sing to your praise
                that the ways you speak through your Church
                has removed all that is untrue within my breast
                that I might confess that even sorrow
                seems better than divorce
                that the force of separation would be grave,
                Beloved Bridegroom, in your embrace I am saved,
                Let me fall asleep in your arms.