Julius Caesar has come and gone. The statues of Alexander can be seen in the neglected corners of ancient museums. Napoleon is sleeping on the tattered pages of history books. The embalmed corpses of Mao and Lenin are still preserved in their respective mausoleums as a testimony to the millions of souls massacred during communist insurrections. St. Joseph, the simple carpenter from Judea, lives on as a beacon of hope even in this post-COVID madness called "The New Normal." Beauty lies dormant, marinated with faith and hope, in the simple elegance of family life. That is the silent message of Joseph amidst the dictatorship of unhinged noise. It is my hope that St. Joseph would guide us during the bleakest nights infested with nightmares, and take us to Jesus, our eternal anchor. I created this rhapsody for Joseph when my pen hit the papyrus over a period of five years. It is my hope that this "widow's mite" may be a pleasing offering to St. Joseph in the cosmic coffers of endless time. With this thought in mind, I place my pen at the feet of St. Joseph in the year of Our Lord 2021, which the Pope has declared as the year of St. Joseph.
