Small Stone, January 22

I find religion, for the first time in a while,
closing my eyes and calling quarters
from that place inside me that still knows how.

When I look up, the cat and dog have
settled at my feet, shoulder to shoulder,
gazing up at me with these matching expressions,
like, We've been wondering when you would be back.

Minutes later, we have returned to life as usual:
tennis balls and catnip toys
and Facebook status updates,
but we have reconnected in some small way
with the world and each other and ourselves.

There is something to this.