In a humble carpenter’s guise did he live,
Saint Joseph, strong and silent, much to give.
Guardian of the Infant, God’s decree,
Foster father to the Child, in Galilee.
Beneath the gentle splendor of the moon,
To the rhythmic chant of nature’s tune,
He whittled wood in the soft twilight,
A protector in the day, a shield in the night.
His hands, once raw and rugged, tenderly caressed,
The Savior of the world, to his chest he pressed.
In quiet faith, he lived his role,
Nurturing a young Child, destined to console.
He heard the angels’ whispers on the breeze,
Felt the divine echo in the rustling trees.
Unquestioning, he carried out his part,
In God’s grand story, etched in every heart.
Tales of this holy man, in scriptures we find,
His courage, his virtue, a testament to mankind.
He showed us, through his humble mortal quest,
The sacredness of duty, love manifest.
He, who carried the light, in a world bereft,
Took Mary and her Child, when from home they left.
To Egypt’s distant sands, under starry sheath,
He led them, guided by faith, beyond belief.
A silent figure, in a story loudly told,
His life, a testimony, courageously bold.
Through Joseph’s eyes, we see a world anew,
With every sunrise, a promise to pursue.
For he is not just the carpenter, austere,
But the guardian of God’s son, holding dear.
The lullabies of Bethlehem, in his memory,
Echo the love of a father, through eternity.
To Saint Joseph, … Read the rest