Doing the laundry,
fixing a wobbly table,
volunteering at a soup kitchen,
working nine-to-five downtown,
constructing a building,
sweeping the streets,
shoveling snow,
celebrating Mass,
answering the phone,
tidying up the apartment,
visiting an elderly friend,
painting, writing a poem, singing, sculpting,
crafting a collage, composing music:
work redeems us.


Benedict of Nursia

said, "Work is prayer."

And a modern poet

praises absorbedness,

being lost in the work.


I find beginning the hardest part.

Slaying procrastination,

my native laziness.


Once I get going,

there's a certain rhythm

that I fall into.

Time goes by,

things get done.


And one can look back

with humble pride

at the finished task,

and smile.

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 106 times
Written on 2018-02-24 at 03:41

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To fall into a certain rhythm and to keep going are the joys of working. If you lose yourself in your work, chances are that you are doing what you love doing. I like the meticulous description of various jobs in the poem. Well-crafted!

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Agreed! Well said.