Matins
By Marilyn Ringer

A dawn breeze gentles
the chime, one note
of the bell that calls
you from your sleep
to pray. You awaken
to the chant of waves
deep into the day’s psalm,
their shoulders bowed,
they rock in meditation.
All resistance turns
to sand. This praise
the water brings to land
an invitation to breathe
again the ancient prayer—
the words once lost,
remembered.