Labor of Lumber by Grant Gruber

Rest assured of certain rain
Of troubles you will surely gain
That grow and sprout on errant trunk
Fed well on woe they’ve gladly drunk
A forest filled with saddening trees
No other way no labors ease

Strength is borne of constant toil
To weed and clear your patch of soil
This trail so long ago embarked
Against the woods so thick and dark
To liberate the long sought path
Trees grown from dread must feel your wrath

As all sorrowed timbers take the axe
Felled upon the joy they taxed
As the effort makes you limber
Endeavor burn those dreary timbers
If anxiousness allows you no higher
Stack up tall it’s funeral pyre

The woods uncharted dark and dreary
Your body tired and soul so weary
The labor long ignites a fire
To rage against despondent liars
And so take pride in stumps of rot
By your hand is a living wrought

You made from forest a verdant field
Live among its gainful yield
See the path without chip or sap
Remember why you lift the axe
The time spent smiling despite the rain
To give to others what you could not gain