Morning Ritual

Can you hear that, too?

            the tick-tock of a heart beat speeding as the
alarm clock screams

the drip-drop of  warm water pelting flesh
in a morning ritual

the sizzling of bacon grease on a skillet
shushing the nighttime away

the swishing of saliva swirling
around the morning mouth of chomping teeth like
a Merry-Go-Round full of dancing children

the gulp of coffee burning down the throat and
the yelp, “OW!” as it settles in the stomach

Can you smell that, too?

the after rain scent and the crystallized bulbs of dew
attaching to the blades of grass like
children in the arms of mothers

the fresh shampooed hair and
soap-scrubbed skin

the bacon and coffee collecting
in the air welcoming the morning in around the house

Can you see that, too?

the sheer look of terror in
those voids of sight as they surrender sleep

the soul-smiling gaze as pondering
thoughts transpire in a calm, morning baptism

the bacon sizzling on the stove
and the coffee boiling in the pot

the de-stressing smile of satisfaction
as the coffee drizzles down the throat and

the impression of pain as it burns
its way down but a smile of contentment soon after

and the de-smiling look of realization
that it’s Monday morning and work is calling names

and the reddish-orange and yellow sunrise

with purple tints and blue shading around the clouds

making the dread of work somehow okay