Could I for one day, do everything that is right?
Like wake in the silent hours, still starved for light.
And by my free choice, dress and shower for the day.
Smiling, laughing; ready to work at my say.

On this day, could I be early for work?
With myself, where laziness and apathy doesn't lurk.
Then in a wild frenzy, complete my ordained task.
Without a sigh, or a break, not even time for the past.

Then at the end of this day, exhausted from labor.
Come home to a home, that I can savor.
Then, like the rhythm in a song, begin again my work.
Without missing a beat, back at the artist's work.

What a day.
To labor in the world and labor at home.
One for the love of money,
the other for your soul.

by William Baez

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