On a Ramadan Morning Getting Ready For Work

The last drop of water slithers down my throat
And leaves me desiring no more.
Dawn is here.
I have a busy day at work,
So I shower down, and dress up.

As I look into the mirror to comb my hair,
My eyes serve me back a look,
A look that warns me to be wary,
A look that has me looking back, back at it.

Everything before my eyes
Gets to it at the speed of light,
And once I see it, its burned in my head
Like so many a forbidden delight.
But my eyes don’t want to be fed.
Not today, not quite.

As I look away from my reflection,
I can’t help but give a moment’s thought to the blind,
Thinking who was the more blessed
In the light of the thoughts I left behind.

Good men come to mind
And the answer is right there:
It is he who sees, and yet is blind
To the questionable affair.

I smile at the terribly winding path I took
To arrive at this obvious conclusion.
But I’m glad I combed my hair today.