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



deb said…
love love this.
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.
Melissa: said…
I love you.
I will memorize this one.
The words will be a perennial answer to a recurrent prayer - thank you.
Laura said…
"essential repetition, sacred work"...yes, well worth is indeed within the ordinary tasks that we can connect most deeply with the sacredness of simply being. Thank you for this elegant poem.

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