May the day perish when I was born.
And the night that I was conceived.
Job is distraught, torn.
But his faith is redeemed.

St Therese delights in the little things.
That still bring  great love.
Eternity sings.
Coming and going, a fluttering dove.

I was at the small mass in the seminary.
Nothing grand but a great sense of peace.
Moving, for all that the feeling is temporary.
But no matter we try again and again without cease.

She died young .
But her song of love she has sung.

……

If you are not great
Just remember St Therese.
Remembered always

……

See Job 3