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The Shower Prayer
The hot rain of the shower
comes down.
Walls blurred
from early morning vision –
I leave the high hot setting
and simply stand in the moment of daybreak.
Calendar unmarked,
computer untouched –
this day is thankfully unspoken for.
For now,
I am just falling water –
and this is enough.
Slow movements become a prayer
of self care –
lathering curves to the music of raindrop rhythms
and the scent of almond, vanilla and ginger.
I use every bottle,
lengthening the morning ritual
to match the continuous, blowing hum of the fan –
spinning my day into circles that meet and overlap
but never end.
Cristina M. R. Norcross
Copyright 2011
