A TEACHER'S WORDS DEPARTED FROM HIS LIPS, ECHOING OUT TO ME,
“They say that by the time you all youngsters enter college and go through it all,
That you’ll be in jobs and careers that do not exist today,”
IS THIS THE FATE THAT WILL BEFALL GENERATIONS Y AND Z?
IN THE DARKNESS, AND IN THE UNKNOWN,
What jobs shall we turn to?
In this world, governed by technology and its speeding autobahn,
WILL WE REAP WHAT WE SOW?
THE YEARS OF "THINGS" WE HAVE LEARNED NOW –
Will they serve us decades down the line,
Or abandon us to a change?
WILL THEY BE OVERWRITTEN BY A CHANGE WHICH WE MUST INEVITABLY ALLOW?
MY MIND RACES, AND ASKS,
“But what of when we grow old and feeble,
And the skill slips away from our trembling hands,
WILL WE EVER BE ABLE TO RETIRE, AT LAST?”
BUT I CANNOT ANSWER THAT QUESTION AS LIFE'S PACE IS ONLY INCREASING;
The world continues to pave the way for things not yet seen,
Yet it foregoes the time to ponder.
THE CRUCIAL THING OF PONDERMENT INDEED SEEMS TO BE MISSING.
BUT WHILE WE ARE STILL YOUNG,
We should grasp seconds from the deceptive hands of Father Time and answer,
"Out of all the dream jobs and careers in the world, which one do you want the most?"
TIME CHOOSES ME AND GRANTS ME WORDS, ONCE UNSUNG,
"WE SHOULDN'T BE CHOOSING OUT OF ANY DREAM JOB OR CAREER;
We should be making them.
They should arise from our own eager fingertips;
THE CAREERS SHOULD RESURRECT FROM THE CREATIVE ABYSS OF OUR MINDS WITHOUT FEAR."
BECAUSE IF WE TACKLE THE UNKNOWN AND PART THE DARKENING SEA,
Never shying away from failure or rejection,
And take matters into our own hands,
WE WILL BE THE BEARERS OF OUR OWN GLEE.
IF YOU PENCIL SOMETHING INTO THE CANVAS OF THE WORLD,
Leaving your graphite trail behind,
You will have accomplished the greatest feat of all;
THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD WILL BE FOREVERMORE UNFURLED.
SO MY DREAM JOB IS THIS –
It is a primitive being that wanders my mind;
It is a blank canvas that holds the eventual fruits of promise.
IT IS A JOB THAT DOES NOT YET EXIST.