My Work

My Work I wonder why we call it “work”, When it is, quite obviously… Something we love to do, something more than “work” Something tender and true, a poem – a song – our muse It is more than “work” because it breathes From the spirit living deep within From the heart who hears – His voice Offering a new word, a new hope, a new promise Offering healing, feeling, revealing… All the beautiful in our story, our journey, our truth All the wonder and music – the beauty of our muse It isn’t really work at all – it is, indeed, such joy To create, craft, build from the heart and soul A design, art, an original – by our spirit, By the wings that fly, when we let go And listen to that muse who reveals the when and why… It is not “work” – it is joyful and gentle, The abiding of a peace within The wonder of believing – imagining Creating something beautiful from only our own dreams Crafting something amazing, that tells the story of our soul Forming – remembering that He formed us… from the dust In His image, He created the first man… breathed into Him Oh, He had such a plan… He “worked” six days Then rested, relaxed, let go – so we can, too… But, oh, such joy… in the work, the word, the muse Such unending joy, in knowing God is love Such amazing joy in knowing God will lead us on… Yes! God will lead us home!