There are long aligns
To unpain vocations
Pro-longed wading to a temp
And after awe
Many will
Due what tolled
Unwilling to pay the accost
In baring feudal labor
As unsuitable to be delivered
And forever borne agin
Illiciting that chimerical pro genie
And triumvirate wishes
Only wanting more
This poem is a tribute to those diligently working to carve out vocations that honor their heart and values amidst an economy and workplaces that would just as soon sell out their dreams for not even a song. 
Perhaps my signature hippie characteristic is opting out of selling myself for a wage. Many are held hostage to slave wages, and even if you sell your highest desires for a great price, postponing dreams can be chronically haunting. In the proverbial stick-up in capitalism, the question of “Money or your life?!” provokes much fretful hesitation. May you find endless vocations where money is well subordinated to your highest hopes and deepest dreams. Let the work begin…
