Tuesday, March 19, 2024

To Saint Joseph in Thanksgiving

 "I am poor, and in labors from my youth and being exalted, I was humbled and troubled." Psalm 87:16

Joseph of Nazareth
On a joiner's bench
You ply your trade.
Hands calloused
Fingers nimble.
Wood chips and shavings
At your feet.
Sawdust
In your beard.
You sing
The song of your people
Longing
For the Face
Of Him
Who is to come.

Joseph of Nazareth
Of David's line
You sing
The wedding song.
"My sister, my spouse
Is a garden
Enclosed..."
Virgin husband
Of the Daughter of Sion
You prepare a
Dwelling
For the Stainless One.

Joseph of Nazareth
In sweat of anguish
You ponder
Another Joseph
Thrown in the cistern.
Your song
Becomes sad.
"Save me
O God
For the waters
Are come in
Even unto
My soul..."
You sing
Then fall silent.
Sleep comes
With the breeze
That stirs
The curls of wood...
And then
The voice: 
"Joseph, Son of David,
Fear not...."

By a Carmelite tertiary


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