SWIMMING WITH BRIAN
Cyril Paul
August 2001
It seems such a short time, Brian
We converged and conversed last summer at Panoche. 
And Brian, in your quiet way you labored 
Amidst your family on the dusty prairie 
Putting up log cabins for your uncle
So that his clients would have a safe place 
To stay and be with their horses.
Unaccustomed with the skills of carpentry 
Like me, you shared in the less
Skilled work experiences offered there. 
While the others, comfortable with
Hammerings, heights and ambidexterity
Showed their impatience with the less skilled. 
But hard labor nets its rewards, doesn't it? 
And Brian, at week's end you showed 
That it really mattered,
A subtle rebuff and a bit of shunning experience 
Created a few bruised egos,
But the fruits of patience and proficiency prevailed.
These subtleties went unchecked
And unnoticed and well they should be.
The expertise and combined skilled efforts 
Of a family diffuses derision.
But you, Brian, exuded inwardly patience and fortitude, 
The soft warmth you possess of family
And surrendering totally to your given tasks. 
You gradually won the hearts of many,
Even though the thought existed yet unspoken. 
You willed yourself to childhood levels 
And enjoyed the playful interaction 
Of the frolicsome children.
You enjoined with the others around 
The warm campfire, wine tasting
Absorbed in the memories and music 
As the glow of yellow tongues of fire
Bathed the tired faces gathered there 
You sat there with cameo posture 
Each evening with a child
Wrapped in your comfortable arms. 
A flash of sparkling teeth appeared
At a moment's notice as conversation warranted.

 
And so today, Brian, we celebrate you. 
Your presence pervades us all.
We lament your loss, alas with tears. 
Our sadness seeks a solace
We need now your countenance 
And your consensual presence 
We wish to lather away
That dark silence of rejection
Though difficult it may be, real or imagined 
That walled us into a transparent 
Cloak of social mores concealing
Angry shame and bewildered bitterness. 
We dash your ashes in the familiar 
Waters of the Cannon in hopes
Of seeking a haunting, knowing urge 
For forgiveness and reconciliation
And in firm, fervor, spirit filled upright wrongs. 
With your grandfather and grandmother 
We join you, now we've become one.
One with nature to nurture our sad souls 
To allow the healing as we bathe
Our souls or spirits in your celebration.
For your hastened and unsuspecting departure. 
To the other side, like a swift meteor skyward 
A strong wind blowing out the light
Has left us languishing in a wake of darkness. 
Trembling, our attention raptured we question
The unforgiving absences which your departure created. 
A void now rapidly filled with hate and pain 
A pain with reasons to be questioned.
Since reason lashes out in blind anger
An anger which lingers, wallowing in bewilderment. 
Staggering to hapless prurient minds.
And so today we offer what's left of our combined love 
Since love conquers, hopefully all sorrow subsides 
Enough to hasten towards amend and wholesomeness 
Fill us with your spirit love, Brian
Shake us into believers and lovers 
Help us to find your quiet strength 
Which made you yield to humility
And maturity and acceptance and forgiveness
Let us, with you, be washed into a oneness in the 
Cannon With songs of deliverance and signs of peace 
With libations and true heartfelt love
A contrite spirit and compassion for today and always.