Whatever is foreseen in joy
Must be lived out day to day.
Visions held open in the dark
By our ten thousand days of work.
Harvest must fill the barn; for that
The hand must ache, the face must sweat.
And yet no leaf or grain is filled
By work of ours; the field is tilled
And left to grace. That we must reap
Great work is done while we're asleep.
When we work well, a Sabboth mood
Rests on our day, and finds it good.
-Wendell Berry, A Timbered Choir