You

Web of being
That has no "is"

Mighty force
That does not move

Essence of brilliance
Without thought:

I can only serve you
With what you have given.

Planless architect,
Holy believer
Who is faithful
To fools,

Artist
For whom
We are
Both brush
And canvas:

Do not let me
Blame you
For blessings.

Instead,
Teach me
To work
As you work:

Without end,
With abiding joy,
With passion
And purpose,
Seeking
Even only at journey's end
The company of angels,

And, until then,
Naught but
The thanks of thieves
And the psalms
Of sinners.

When I serve you,
I am whole:
I shoulder my burdens
With great eagerness,

Not stopping to ask why
I must serve,
But only
To offer my hand

To my
Fallen
Neighbor,
Your beloved.

--Mr. Gobley