Morning sun is yet to come,
And his day has just begun,
The basin’s surface is ice
Splashes his face quickly twice
Folds his blanket on the bed
In prayer he bows his head,
Then leaves for duties to do
The years have made them not few
As the monks grow fewer still,
The Monastery unfills.

Daylight finds him with bowed head
Sunrise devotions now said
Goes to garden a rocky plot,
In toil glory not forgot,
Chants to the hoes steady fall
Stopping only for noon’s call,
Praise the Lord for soup and bread,
Afternoon the Bibles read
Till kitchen chores then demands
Use of his aged tired hands.

Evening gives gladder of chore
He takes time helping the poor
Carry meals to old shut ins
Each stop is another friend,
Taking time to share prayer
Always happy to be there,
Hurries at his own slow pace
Greets all with a smiling face,
He returns through Chapel door,
Pausing sweeps the entry floor.

Another day passes by,
And he’s no questions of why,
This is the life that he chose
Where he travels His Lord goes
Trusting always his pathway
Forever is the next day,
Strives to be an example
Continues long as able,
Blissfully in life he trusts
Happily serves Lord Jesus.