meaningless rituals

The birds at dawn
Signal the start
So I put on my 
Sacred terrycloth robe
Do a single spin
Light the white candle
Boil the water
Pour it over the coffee
Clap three times
Sniff my morning sniffle
Shuffle old, tired slippers
To the toaster
Watch as the bagel
Makes its transubstantiation 
From bread to toast

I remember ringing the bells in the church
And marveling at my power as a ten year old altar girl 

I made tiny little crackers into Jesus Christ himself 

Here, now, in my kitchen
I am performing other ceremonies 

Whisking, whirling, humming 
Whispering measurements 
Into soft white piles of salt and flour
Tiny little incantations 

Creating my very own magic 
Wielding power ever so gently

Ringing those bells 

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