Stumbled on this piece today and it struck me as apropos of everything.
Everything Is Made Of Labor
Farnaz Fatemi
The inchworm’s trajectory:
pulse of impulse. The worm
is tender. It won’t live
long. Its green glows.
It found a place to go.
Arrange us with meaning,
the words plead. Find the thread
through the dark.
Muttering Retreats 