house chores...
they are dreaded.
They give you unwanted sweat;
they make you stoop low
to sweep the floor,
and mop the tiles;
they give you stiff neck,
as you brush away the dust
and cob webs that seem to forever stay;
they make your shoulders weary
as you carry,
as you push and pull,
as you do.
I don't like them.
but I do them.
They are have-to's of our daily and weekly life.
But every time I do them,
I feel so glad I do ----
forgetting all
the sweating, the sweeping,
the stooping, the mopping,
the brushing, the pushing,
the carrying, the pulling,
the doing.
I get lost in the transient mundane.
I find myself in a tranquil abundance.
My soul dances in the push and pull,
in the bending down
and in the straightening up.
I find clarity in the dust and webs.
I find new strength upon my sore muscles,
flexibilty beyond a later rigidly tired body.
There is a heavy shower of fresh inspiration;
ideas drop and flow,
unceasing,
like from a newly installed showerhead.
and showers...
prefered cold in the late mornings of summer,
set hot in the early mornings and late evenings,
sweeping cold and hot on a body
that needs cleaning, refreshing, regaining.
And yes, it is so reviving,
so revitalizing.
It opens doors to renewed perspectives;
it unlocks immaculate wisdom,
and leaves you and me
to a newcomer
of our own selves.
Yes, they introduce us
to our very own new selves.
Yes, house chores and showers.
Pleased to meet you myself.
YOU ARE READING
No Rhymes, Just Rhythms of My Own
Poetrya storage of loud and silent outbursts---of any known human emotions. Mere compilation of previously published individual poems and newly inspired creations.
