we are supposed to

we are supposed to want to revel,
to dine fine and delight
to escape a workdays wrestle
under a clear, starlit night

we are supposed to want to get
fast and furiously away
from the stresses and the messes
of dull, dreary everydays

we are supposed to fight and finagle
every second of the five-day week
then rush away to Saturday, where
of things work-related, we do not speak

we are supposed to just “get through it,”
and endure our vocation
in hopes that one day we just might
end up with one long vacation

we are supposed to savor moments free
away from desk and planner
to find diversions completely apart
from lists on the task manager

we are supposed to fit in this box
where everyone relates-
we complain and groan and sit and moan
about our jobs that we hate

what if we supposed instead
that work could be enjoyed-
that through our daily toils await
unspeakable gifts from being employed

suppose we each were fashioned
for work and not a long vacation
how then would we feel at the close
of one five-day-long summation?

suppose we are wasting our energy
with a fight quite misdirected
running from all the daily joys

has our souls severely affected