The good news is also the bad news:
None of this matters very much.
In ten thousand years it’ll all be dust -
But forget the long view; just take tomorrow.
Tomorrow your today will seem a dream
And things will be far better, or far worse.
And Thursday! Don’t even dare imagine it.
Thursday will change everything, and if it doesn’t
Friday will certainly make up for lost time.
So none of it matters much – but it all matters.
Even the petty frustrations, even the seeming dead hours.
Though nothing at all depends upon a wheelbarrow,
The wheelbarrow still counts, in its trivial wheelbarrow
way.
And you are also trivial,
And infinitely precious,
And when you think you’re doing nothing,
You hold the whole world in your hand.
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