Rituals

There's comfort in the rituals

That rope us to repeating patterns.

Same snooze button, same cup, same coffee,

I passed that building today and yesterday,

And the day before,

With the same thought looping through my mind.

Tiring of the same, I revolt,

Eager to step outside my role.

Yet, even when I abandon the inner circle,

The rituals come with me.

The coffee cup must follow me relentlessly

To any foreign land or domicile,

And while I am deep walking in newness,

The building that I used to pass each day

Loops again through my mind

To comfort me.