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Enlightenment at the Kitchen Sink by Kirsten Knecht February 21, 2007 A harsh and strict man, or so he seemed to many Capable of great warmth and tenderness Made formidable by the withholding of it All she ever wanted was a word or two of praise Unconditional And all she ever got was what's the minus for A towel-snap on the ankles in a cold stone-tile floor hall The abrupt early end to the sleepover party Rise and Shine! Oh, the humiliation But now?.. He says I've been such a goof! A bitter self-reproach regret By long distance telephone Connected She cries Doing dishes I've been given such a gift The Four Sufferings of Birth, Death, Sickness and Old Age I tell her The essence of Buddhism Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em I must be the most enlightened of them all She says making a joke but still Intrigued She has attended to each one Enlightenment at the kitchen sink A weight lifts from our lives What was meant to happen all along Harmony from sorrow, all forgotten and forgave Time to pass the legacy The lineage of the storytellers Something about the mouth, or is it the nose Or just the freckles on the hands Gesturing Now I can begin to tell the story Doubt, hesitation, frustration Do I have the right equipment? Will I get to it in time? I do, I will I promise I'm listening. About the author: I am a 40-year old transplanted Midwesterner of Danish carpenter stock. This poem was written as a gift to my mother on Mother's Day 2003. It describes an emotional event that transformed her life-long struggle in her relationship with her father, which was brought about by her having to care for him after the death of my grandmother. It is also my promise to her that I will carry on the love of language and storytelling that is such an important part of my inheritance from the two of these remarkable people. | | | |
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