Something Left Undone
Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. Society is based on time, each day we are inundated with all things ranging from menial to monumental- things arranged by time. This is not new, we are aware of time as a thing limited, as precious as it is perpetual, our part of it of course being finite. In light of this we are ever punctual for work, never to miss a dentist's appointment nor show up late for any sort of meeting which allows for the further scheduling or multi-tasking of our busy, compartmentalized life; we're always on time for obligations. Dutifully we tune into the bad-news at 6, we watch it all again at 11. Perhaps we are creatures of habit, all things being cyclical, perhaps these are our responsibilities, things we must do. Waits, and will not go away; Waits, and will not be gainsaid; By the cares of yesterday Each to-day is heavier made; What is curious, however, is how we never fail t