Frustration is the bellows
that blows the coals
Hot.

Thankless work begs
to be done,
Needful and important,
Necessity its only charm.

So we labor
Doing our best,
Filling the gaps
and wondering
What we should do
Next.

For a moment
We see the fruit
Hanging on the tree;
We must walk
the Red Hot coals
to taste its
sweetness.