Poetry: Joseph.

I watch You sleep, little one

or shall I call You Little Lord?

You curl up into me,

and I melt

Why do You feel like a part of myself,

When there is no part of me in You?

Your Mother stirs and checks on You-

I see her eyes betray awe,

awe, pain and love

mostly love

I worry if I am enough

if all this is enough-

Is a woodworker's home where You ought to be?

A sigh escapes me,

The worry and wonder never cease

But this I know-

The Father makes no mistakes, &

You were given to me

so I vow -

I will love You till the end of time,

I will carry Your little feet over the stones

every piece of wood I touch will bear Your name

You will bless me, and I You

and be ever amazed by my good fortune

that my Savior chose me

So let them call me Joseph-

Let them call me Joseph,

protector of the Divine Child, blessed amongst all men.