all my days
her morning was spent
sifting, kneeling, blasting water
dragging cages outside
into bright sunshine
preparing a clean habitation
such a mundane task
simple repetition
but, she knew
this is holy work
her mourning was spent
sifting, kneeling, breathing the spray
dragging cage of self
into bright sunshine
essential repetition
sacred work
...
Comments
and the all my days of my days too.
and you are wise dear cristie,
sometimes my glass is half full only after I've seen it half empty first. sigh.
I will memorize this one.
The words will be a perennial answer to a recurrent prayer - thank you.