Joy of the Water Mill

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Joy of the Water Mill

You meet the many buckets of water within

Hanging on the water wheel throughout the week,

Months even

 

Spinning and spinning, round and round

No one to retrieve them

Some of have peered into the bucket, tipping it to and fro

Water spilling over the edge

Splashing to the ground

 

Each bucket containing sediment

Leaves, dirt and other collections

Preventing the energy flow and production

 

Gently, you pull the lever stopping the wheel

Together

We take down each bucket

One by one

Passing no judgement on the murky water

 

Lining the buckets to the side of the path

It takes time

Others are in front of and behind us

Some are passing

 

The water is not clear, but it is still refreshing

On our hands

As we take turns retrieving the contents

It cleanses

 

The sunlight is streaming down

A light breeze travels through

 

Leaves are missing parts – some have holes

Rocks look uninteresting – unlike ones

I have would have chosen as a girl

Twigs – dead

Feathers – matted

Other things

I do not know

 

Lack of luster seems sad at first

We dry them off and set them in the light

Sacred, special process, shared

 

Noticing these unexpected, aged features

We place, stack, arrange to the side of the path

No longer submerged

Gifts from the earth in contact with our skin

 

Some of them rough, some scratchy, crunchy, spikey, soft             

I am glad to discuss this with you

Perhaps others will consider these elements along the way

Maybe some commonality, inspiration might come

Maybe not

Delight fills us

Laughter emerges

Noticing and admiring

Beauty

 

We put the buckets back on the wheel

Less heavy now

I pull the lever to start the rotation again

 

More water will fill the buckets, new debris will as well

We do not know how it will look or feel

Today, I rejoice in the lighter, freer me

And although we worked

The lighter, freer you

 

I do not know when

But I will need to go back to the water wheel

To add or release water

Or to remove what the weather has blown in

 

In the meantime, the mystery suits us

Continuing down the path

Not burdened so much by the clog

The trees seem to sway, the birds chirp

 

All is well

Now I know we can go together to the water wheel

 

Joy of the Water Mill was written by Emily Turner and Published in House of Joy, part of the House of series by Retreat House Spirituality Center, Copyright 2019, Village of Care Press.

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