poem of the day May 15 

Ritual abound

from morning joe

to marriage Yes I do

Ceremonies repeat

strange phenomenons

hard to complete

Familiar circles  grown out of

a collective need

bind us to the ancient past

with glue like scripts

As I muse I am

getting dressed

to go to a funeral

the ultimate human ritual

A play of poignant sadness

funneled in the rites of sacred grace

in a service long grown from a solemn place