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Praying my bed: A poem

Photo by Mink Mingle on Unsplash.

This morning
as I rose late
with no reason not

I found myself
discovering the beauty
of making the bed.

Every motion with intention,
every touch with tenderness;
carefully,  smoothly, turning down
the soft sheets.

“Thank you for a restful sleep,”
I said.
“Thank you that I have you
to snuggle me warm when I’m alone.”

Smiling as I fold you in,
anticipating your embrace
when twilight comes.

If every morning task
could be turned back
into such a time of Grace.

And the day has just begun.

(c) Barbara Wood Gray
Morning Liturgy
April 3, 2020