Make Haste

Bland and empty, a worry breeds Hides from sight the finest seeds Only hope provides a way Keeps the people stable day by day Passions wonder making clear A season for another try Pass the willing way, ignore the passive stares None attempt to ponder, consumed by other cares May what glory desires to rise begin Without an anchor holding bay The feet make hast toward goals not comprehended Until you let it go again, a final work before a final day