Bhagavad Gita: subject of this verse.
My only privilege: work, that I engage.
I plant a tree, not certain it will grow.
Not knowing it will ever bear its fruit.
The fruit is not what motivates my acts.
To outcomes, my attachments, I release.
I’m ceaseless in my planting industry.
The Lord, unto his name, perform my work.
Desires with selfishness, abandon here.
I harvest bushels, or my saplings die.
Results are what the universe decides.
Not failure nor success — let affect wane.
This equipoise is Yoga, Karma named.
T.H. Chalm 