prayer, unromantic

for twelve hours I drooled and I snoozed,
cozy in final rest.
I mean not the final rest,
but finally I rested,
and awoke pre-dawn to the most
clear and mesmerizing voice
calling all to prayer,
except me technically,
and yet it called to me,
a prayer.

the next morning,
his voice called me from my slumber, and
I was not as romantic about the whole thing,
which was in of itself perhaps,
a sort of prayer.