first sign of light breaking through the blinds
that there is worthwhile work to be done.
to the impetus signified by the sighing of birds
that time awaits,
to the peace found in the rounds of feet
shuffling through subway stalls
and the canon of tracks on rails
as the LEDs inform the next manhattan bound L train
in 8, 6, 4, 2, minutes, has arrived.
to the 9 to 12
and 5, 6, 7, 8!
rather than the nine to five
to choosing to bring work home with you
out of dedication rather than obligation
to the work that supports the work
to making it to work
to making it work
to making others laugh, cry, think,
but most of all
to inspiring others to act
to being instead of doing
to doing instead of watching
to watching instead of nothing
to persisting through the perspiration
the letting of blood
the harvesting of tears
the renaissance of souls
to belief, and faith,
and knowing that you are making your parents proud
even though there's no stethoscope around your neck
no programmer's hunch in your shoulders
no hearing for you to attend to in the morning.
to knowing that there's just nothing else like it
so that when the final blackout falls
and the stage is lit only by ghost light
you will have committed a part of your life
to the art of living
to breathing in the moment
to being present.