Mystic Rite

Wild fragments
At the mercy of fire
When scorched
in ancient tradition
Forged under pressure
Ignite a raw potential
A single wisp
evokes vivid hope
Then blossoms with life
Whose soft tendrils curl
Upon escape
They lift like a dancer
in the light
pirouetting above the
Scalding murk
A lost lovers scent
After nights too long
prickling the senses
As anticipation peaks
We bless
And give thanks
For this mystic rite
Of the gods

Happy International Coffee Day!

19 thoughts on “Mystic Rite

    1. Thank you. Making coffee is an art form. Ask any batista.

      I make up a lot of nonsense so I’m not offended. These international/ national days are fascinating. There are so many. I think this will be my last month of observances. Might do jokes of facts for a while πŸ€”

      Liked by 1 person

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