clean the house

there is no limit to the number of times 
you can clean a house
over and over again
it can be your whole life

what flows through your mouth when you speak of your life
through your arms as you work
through your back as you bend your whole weight into the task
   always at hand

do you say to yourself
tomorrow will be different,
how did I get here
spent, me done, me can’t 
tired tired and so so tired…

or does your body sing it’s life:

this, this is my work
this is what I live for
this home, these faces, 
this little order in chaos
above and below, within and without

seeking the moment when all is 
as it should be 
for the ones I adore

the deeper rest that comes after toil

bless this endless floor, this dusty shelf
this smooth tile, this broken glass, this ancient wood
this life built out of chore, duty
time and sacrifice

this is the small light within everything
the little love in the dark

– august 2011, inspired watching sister fold laundry