morning coffee

this my ritual of defrosting the body, absorbing bittersweet warmth into its cool carapace. slowly, slowly, the felt sense that I am apart from the rest resolves itself into the dew of unity’s palate. some days, bubbles of joy break through the froth almost immediately, and there is a waking dance under the lip of my mug. others, quieter days, I am reminded of how the body longs eternal for its release into the open vista, and there is a gentle surrender – a dipping ever downwards into the mystic night of the endless merge – slipping deeper into the thick silvery black of the molten brew.

2 thoughts on “morning coffee

  1. Beautiful…

    On Mon, Jan 28, 2019 at 9:03 AM the muse of being wrote:

    > Hugh posted: “this my ritual of defrosting the body, absorbing bittersweet > warmth into its cool carapace. slowly, slowly, the felt sense that I am > different from the rest resolves itself into the dew of unity’s palate. > some days, bubbles of joy break through the froth ” >

    Liked by 1 person

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