The Cup

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“The Cup”
(Coffee and Cigarette Meditation)
Coffee cools
Earthen, bitter, metallic tastes on my tongue
Dark, thick richness lingers on the cup and in the back of my mouth
The last sip awaits its consummation
Now cold, cup’s bottom revealed through the dregs
Still as a stone it rests, awaiting my decision
Cool menthol billows, riding on my breath
Haloed, wreathed, concealed, behind the shifting veil
Seeking stillness, clarity, connection to Creation
Perhaps it lies beneath the bottom of this last bitter business
I would that this cup pass from me
Yet it awaits, growing colder
I am at once judged and instructed
It looms larger
The vessel of my soul one with the cold dross
I would not
Yet nevertheless I will drain this cup of the last grievous drop so that it might be filled again
Filled again with living water
Amen

 

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