Washing Dishes

Pots and pans seem to understand

that the best way to wash your hands

is not to hold a royal trial of the King,

but to humbly serve in love and sing

while feeding those who work and hurt

and scrubbing away the world’s dirt.

Love is willing to serve in simple ways

while deflecting to Jesus all the praise.

Quiet at home, proclaiming abroad

listening to the angel’s laud

of the Lord. They serve all night

yet enduring not an ounce of fright,

for at the break of day, the dishes

will return along with prayers and wishes

over eggs and croissants made at home

before we go out again to our local Rome.

 

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Happy Valentine’s day to the woman who’s dishes I have washed dishes for nearly fourteen years.

Categories: Marriage, Poem | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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