There is a element of our work
That waits for the future to happen-
A rested posture that acknowledges
The unexpected nature of reality;
Deeply longing for what could be
Yet making peace with life as it is.
And then there is a stance of the soul
That is poised to the knowledge that today isn’t all there is-
An expectant crouch
An eager pulse
And an acute awareness
That these hands can do so much more
Than just receive:
We are curators of our cultures
Matadors of the menaces of our times
Architects of the human experience.
Ours is to do the work that today demands:
Staying afloat
Enduring hardships
Savoring delights.
But the story goes on-
Our work is also to spend our days
With our hearts in our hands
And our heads in the clouds
Beckoning the world to come.