Work of the Ages

Thousands of hands holding me up,
Helping me to remain above the depths.
Those who went before did their work,
Giving me a place now to stand.

Those now passed look to me,
Their hopes surviving their own deaths through me.
They call to me, beckoning me to continue,
Building on from where they left off.

I shall toil in the pathways first marked by them.
I shall both benefit from and add to the fruits that their labor brought forth.
I shall continue the work begun long before my birth,
The work that shall continue long after I join the ancestors.