the perfect cup of coffee
maybe i’m never going to be able to show you what i see when i look at you. it’s a shame, because i’m so desperate for you to know what a blessing you are.
you’re a sculpture that stands in the museum’s garden, the birds gently resting upon, that makes me see i have wings too.
you’re a song that fills the whole room, that doesn’t leave room for anything that doesn’t move the soul, and moves me to dance.
you’re a film that i see something new in every time i see you, that changes the way i watch every other movie.
maybe i could start smaller, weave a path to your door like a creek, and show you a thing of beauty that you’d let in and drink up before you realize it’s you.
you’re a perfect cup of coffee first thing in the morning, could you see that at least?
you can see that as completely ordinary, argue that it is so common, it’s hardly worth mentioning, that anyone could have that. but you can’t deny the perfect cup of coffee changes the whole trajectory of the day.
maybe a million people are enjoying a perfect cup of coffee right now, and isn’t that a blessing. a million people are changed the way i am changed when i see you.