Counting Down to Contentment
Although this moment may not be the best
And has more trouble to cast in your path,
There beckons ahead a break and a rest
Where you will flee soon from this daily wrath.
There's only three brushfires confronting you,
Stirred up by others, but now it's your job,
And a dozen to-dos you must still do
Before you can free yourself from the mob.
Or, maybe, what's worse, your list is all done,
And on idle duty, you just watch the clock.
Empty hours sit between you and your fun,
Passing slowly at the pace of a rock.
Awaiting the future is your pastime
As you slog through the present that is now.
That hope to arrive in a better clime
Adds wind pushing forward behind your prow.
No comments:
Post a Comment