The Shower Drain

I have been standing in the shower the last
Fifteen minutes, watching the water spin its way
Down the drain.
I have not washed my body.
I have not washed my hair.
I am just standing, my chin rested on my chest,
Watching the drain.
As an object in of itself,
It is fairly simple:
A round metal disc with holes.
But there is something about it--
Something about the way the water spins
Counter-clockwise around it,
Something about the seamlessness of this
That attracts my attention.
The water goes down the drain
And into the pipes.
The pipes lead to the water treatment facility
To get separated from the waste.
And then again, it will come out of the faucet
Here, and land on my skin.
This drain, this little metal disc,
Has become my entire world,
And the water I feel on my skin,
The water that will roll of my skin and empty into the drain,
Is the divine blessing that gives my world
Its meaning.