There is a wall.
Decades ago, you moved someone to clear the field, gather the stones, stack them in a line. Later, others came to repair breaches left by freeze and refreeze. None could imagine how important the wall would be, now is, to one soul’s thriving.
For here, seated by this old stone wall, I rest between duties. Without this respite, I would tire and falter.
These anonymous labors upon labors — unknowing needed. My own simple duties of the day, how will they help tomorrow’s?
Thank you, Lord, for generation and generation.