Where Am I Going?

Where am I going?
Christopher Bogart

Where am I going?

I don’t seem to know.

I was tasked with a life of purpose,
Of commitment,
Of work,
But when work is done
What then?

Is there life after work?

There certainly should be.

We are raised as Puritans,
With the ethic of the job,
Of the title,
Of the paycheck.

We have spent a life of worry,
Of bills,
Of boundaries between
Office and home,
Of factory and farm,
Of Sunday nights and Monday mornings,
Of summers and of falls,
Of Hump Day Wednesday,
Of TGIF Fridays,
Of finite beginnings
And finite endings.

When one life ends,
Where does the other,
More infinite life,
Begin?