The Work

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I will serve in my daily life,
The daily fight, the daily flight.
In the days that run past my fingers,
Those that He has gifted me.
I will hallow the little things,
The little words, the little works.
The things I hold in my hands,
And those that flow from my mouth.
I will seek the hidden Love,
He Ever-ancient, ever-new.
Hiding in both chanting birds,
And the foul, barking cars.
I will have my life mirror His,
In Joseph’s quiet workshop,
In the houses of dear friends,
And in the silence of my heart.
And I hope this, to Him,
Leads many souls,
And that my presence, leaves,
With my steps, the aroma Christi.
I will: I will walk the Way.
Through the Furrow and the Forge,
From daybreak to its end.
But do not count my steps:
Can you measure love? Quantify piety?
Can you ask the burning heart,
“How much do you love?”,
Without quenching its flame?