With apology to James Thomson. His rushing in a train with a travelling companion seemed so sweet and peaceful. But then, that was way back in early part of 18 C. Compared to his, our daily rush to, and with, work sometimes feels pointless.
As we rush as we rush for our train
Our bags in a hurry we pack;
But at times all the haste is in vain
For traffic jams hold us back.
As we rush, as we rush with our work,
Our friends and our families keep moving back;
But the threats that in dark corners lurk
Will never leave our track.
We will rush on in tension and fear,
Though machines are fast, and our brains we rack—
For we carry the back-logs with us, dear,
On our way more and more tasks stack.