Don't ignore the ordinary: A poem

Our Work

The place He gives us to inhabit.

The few things He gives us to do in that place.

The persons He invites us to know there.

These our days

until He returns.

It is enough then,

this old work of hands

His and ours

to love here

to learn our song,

like crickets that scratch

and croon,

from nooks unseen,

carrying on with

what they were made for,

the night songs of

unnoticed faces,

with our wings unobserved,

until He walks again

in the cool of the day,

to call our names once more.

And we then,

with our stitched white flags,

will with haste from behind His evergreens

finally unhide ourselves.

Unblushed and eager to walk leisurely on.

(Zack Eswine, 2009)