Triumph Through Toil
(A Double Tanka)

Touch the dawning Moon,
And reach for the august sky;
Naught in our stars lies:
It is in the teething toil,
Fertile is the sweated soil.

Tog'ther we can win;
The yoke of sweet synergy
Has the energy.
Hold tighter the strings of hope—
Scale the skies —loosen the rope.

//Thought for the Day//

- ℳ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃