Sunday Morning Ritual

The rock fountain
Outside my sliding
Glass bedroom door
Creates a sense of peace
And tranquillity
In my weary stress
Filled mind.

The water flows
From one pool into
The next,
Cascading from one
Rock formation
Into the next
With abandon.
The water does not
Go anywhere,
Outside of its’ home.
It continues to
Move along,
Over and over
In a continuous rhythm.
I find myself
Suddenly sleepy.
I am, like the water,
Not going anywhere.
I am at home,
With my husband,
My huge dog,
And my two
Worthless cats.
So goes the Sunday
Morning ritual…