Poetry, Writing

The Day’s Labor

The future comes, it will be what we build.

The waiting now is over,
There is work yet to be done.
The building and the making
Are never easy won.

O, Lift your eyes to heaven
Set your feet upon the path
Turn your hands to the labor
What e’re the aftermath.

The storms still loom and threaten,
The calm can never stay
But still we work and labor
And build along the way.

All that we may offer
Whether meat or stone or song
Is a small piece of the future
We build as we go along.

Though storm and trial threaten
They also pass away
Our labors shall out last them
And all that’s good shall stay.

The Day’s Labor copyright © Heather Strickler 2024, all rights reserved.
Image Midjourney.