A Writer’s Ode to Coffee

Kaffe-Rogaland-coffeeart.comMy coffee grinder jolts the sleeping beans into mindfulness. This is the moment they’ve been waiting for, ecstatic about being called into service.

Scalding water is a balm to their bitter soul, reborn as elixir, transforming my base metals into gold.

Magic as any unstoppered genie.

A humble clay mug embraces its companionable friend. They become one, both having become their true selves through fire and grinding.

Their raison d’etre is almost complete. My brain synapses ignite, electrons dance around inner space.

New channels form at higher frequencies than before. I am ready to receive news from distant worlds.

*****

Thanks to Angel and Andy at coffeeart.com  for permission to use this image.  An imaginative team of artists who’ve reinvented coffee as a painting medium, they’ve created a luscious range of rich sepia-toned  worlds. 

 

 

 

  

A place where no one seems particularly interested in God

We come into the world screaming from the weight
of the atmosphere pressing on our fragile bodies.

Astonished at the strange light, we gulp air and milk,
almost drowning in the very elements we need to survive.
Like fallen angels we’re left on doorsteps of strangers who,
for better or worse, take on the task of keeping us alive.

Our caretakers believe our first smiles are meant for them,
but in the beginning we still keep company with the angels,
weeping as they leave us to fend for ourselves in this alien world.

We learn to tie our shoes.
We pose for snapshots while the constant burning sun
evaporates the mist of our pre-dawn memories.

We learn which questions make our caretakers uneasy.
We learn how to give proper answers to their questioning.

Some memory of our origin distracts us during unexpected moments,
at inconvenient times;
rushing to get to church,
a place where no one seems particularly interested in God.

  

Mercy Oceans

The angel of storms is directing traffic.
A saint sloughs off his tattered robe.
The ocean swells, heavy breasted
Misty-eyed,
Mourning,
throwing itself to shore endlessly
Kissing us.
The director moves a cloud bank over the desert;
Merciful rain
Moistening dry eyes
Parched souls
There’s a wedding celebration in Paradise.

Shaykh_righthandup

Dedicated to my spiritual guide, Shaykh Nazim al-Haqqaniwho passed from this earthly life on May 7, 2014.

  
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