The Mystery of Work

Rotating on its axis, The earth labours making the world go round The planets also work, As they revolve, around the sun The solar system is working, With the burden of all things Ants work day and night To erect hardened anthills Only for man to callously destroy Striving to make ends meet Plants, trees and other vegetation They respond to stimuli: Wind and touch; Science and geography And other acts of men, All in the name of work And everything keeps going round A little labour does the door As it swings on its hinges - the effect of some work done The paper sheet blown by the breeze Travels from one place to another Just to continue the process And prove to you, o haughty sluggard That inanimate things do work To keep his sweat-soaked money; The lawyer goes to the banker The accountant had paid his arrears He would also get to the clinic; With the help of a driver And his conductor Both will visit the eatery On their way out And everybody keeps going round, Working We know God is working Or, so we are told His angels too, hands-on-the-plough The devil is losing sleep; Maybe he doesn’t get any His demons are not folding their arms And smiling with you and I So you don’t think they are left out Of this common train All keep going round Every day, like a vicious circle Unveiling the mystery of work