Speaking Of Work. Poem by Fay Slimm

Nothing is still, and we need to keep pace
With seasonal race, as earth itself works.

Life's march is relentless, submission wise,
As eternity lies in and around
The urges to work.
Nature hates shirking.

Starting today, join in the harmony.
Play the symphony along with the universe
Learn that tasking begets much
Self-respect from the first.

There is a saying, those who love work
Love life, and labour enables the worker
To tap it's secrets of utmost delight.

All knowledge leads to it, all love
Is filled with it, structures are built with it.

This love of work is a linking with self
And a binding with others, even with God,
For the Great Workers' example
Stands as it's own proof.

Injecting something of spirit in work
Is shown, no matter what object attained.
Pertaining to effort,

A mere loaf of bread, statue of stone,
Table of wood, flagon of wine,
All have the breath of their maker around
And inside, hiding golden rewards.

Because labour is visible love
In perpetual motion, resulting in action,
And always achieving
Only what love would approve.