When finally all the work is done and silent.
I will submit to sleep, and I will rest.
When quiet are the thoughts that now are violent.
I will make peace with slumber’s sweet request.
At last when road is paved, I’ll still my feet.
I’ll stretch my limbs and close my weighted eyes.
I’ll coax my aching muscles to retreat.
When path is cleared of roots and tangled vines.
When past has gone to work and work to past.
And day is full of light and hope and dreams.
When no more drudge and toil can be asked.
I’ll cry relief in richly spilling streams.
But oh, this work keeps growing without end!
Always with me, my loyal, steady friend.
This was my response to Day 10: Future, Sonnet, Chiasmus.