MY OFFICE IS A CHAPEL
My office is a Chapel. There is
No priest or preacher here, but there is an alter
An office desk, oak stained, once bright, but now
There are ink marks and scratches on it.
The pipes in my office are for stearm and water
Not for music, like the pipes of an organ
But is music here sometimes
So the pipes do not seem out of place.
There is colored light, too, but no stained glass
In the windows through which I see
A hill, blue sky and a house.
Sometimes a friend, inclined to speak of solemn things
Sits here and brings a sense of brotherhood to the room
But worship is chiefly in the form of work
Though now and than a silent prayer as well.
Yes my office is a chapel - peace is here
Like the peace of the fields I see from the window
But I can hear the hum of people on the street below
And where they are I know God is!
