Ritual

With the sun up in your eyes you call the exit of dusk. You take refuge under the sheets with your eyes shut tight in efforts to elude day, face tucked to your side where an only too recurring face staring right back at you, lids enveloping slumber.

You give thanks for the day was good, for the fruits every dawn breaks.
You find apologies for all the wrongs you've made, the bads you can never consolidate.
You pray for the love in all aspects of life.
And lastly, before you leave reality's troubles behind, you give thanks for the recurring face that you'll always live to apprise.

D.