Whatever is foreseen in joymust be lived out from day to day.
Vision held open in the dark
by our ten thousand days of work.
Harvest will 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 may reap,
great work is done while we're asleep.
When we work well, a Sabbath mood
rests on our day, and finds it good.
- Wendell Berry (a man I've come to see as the Poet Laureate of Sabbath)
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