For me it’s a meditation
I do it slowly, lovingly
crying if I need to
or singing softly
But when Hans and Thea
come visiting dishwashing
becomes a competition, how fast
how many, in how short a time
In and out of the basin
in one sweeping movement
no time for quiet contemplation
I have to compete or be left behind
Forget silent action, sweet dedication
to thorough peacefulness,
my innocuous alienation - an escape
from too many people -
Is taken from me!
I rack my brains to
offer amiable conversation
without touching upon
The sweet elation
of the unknown
and strange
mystery…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I've never looked at dishwashing as anything other than a distasteful chore. Maybe I should do it meditatively, like you do, slowly and with feeling? Nah, I'll use the dishwasher! Love, Fran xx