The Nature of Work

A purpose and a resilience you seek,
A legacy that's both strong and not weak.
Though wages are earned in a standard affair,
Its meaning runs deeper than money or fare.

My time I will freely and eagerly give,
A peace and a truth help my spirit to live.
A resource so precious, demanding and hard,
It mends all the parts that my daily work marred.

Some jobs I have held were both taxing and stark,
They left a deep strain, a significant mark.
I think of the patients with spirits so brave,
Whose palliative journeys led straight to the grave.

To stand in a room where the moments are few,
As one nears the crossing to something brand new.
This skill is not taught, but a profound calling's claim,
To be the kind human who whispers their name.

Perfect Start from Great Finish

 The coffee machine hums its old refrain,

A comfort in the morning light, and then the pain

Of words I've practiced, quiet, on my tongue,

"It's time for something new," the hopeful song I've sung.

I see their faces, a sudden, softened hue,

A shared goodbye in eyes of brown and blue.

The easy laughter falters, then falls still,

A silent moment on this ordinary hill.

They speak of projects we had yet to start,

Of inside jokes that feel now set apart.

They say my name and linger on the sound,

As if the leaving pulls up sacred ground.

Their hands reach out, a pat upon my back,

A gentle sadness, like a coming lack.

"We'll miss you here," they say with heavy grace,

And "It won't be the same," around this place.

But even as the sorrow hangs so near,

A different feeling conquers every fear.

A new horizon calls, a vibrant, burning gleam,

The final chapter of a waking dream.

I hug them tight, each one, and promise more,

To stay in touch, to knock upon their door.

And though I'm leaving, with a heavy heart,

I know this new beginning is the perfect start.