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The woman drew water from the well
Yet her gaze observed all within her vision
The slapping of the clothes against the rocks
The washerwoman hummed and worked her way through
Shirts and trousers and pinnies and shawls and bedding
And smaller garments with unmentionable names
For this was Monday.
Her eyes wandered to the fields beyond where slowly stealthily
Farm labourers with bowed heads bent over shovels
Digging down into the earth turning the sod in a rhythmic silence of duty
Under the watchful eye of the farm steward
Observing, noting, keeping check that they did not break their silence
Or waver from the task in hand.
The woman's eyes survey all in silent observance
A trait inherent from her mother and grandmother
Noting a flicker of discontent
Perceiving the droop of a tired shoulder
Discerning the haunted eyes masking worry
Her integrity of vision seeing beyond life itself to its core.
The woman finely tuned to the ebb and flow of life
Her wisdom guiding her judgement
Knowing when to speak, to suggest, to advise, to pray
Quietly and stoically dispensing guidance in her innate manner
For the betterment of all.
International Women's Day
8 March 2020