Coffee at Sunset

You are speaking

I hear the sound of your voice

   But I feel the smooth hardness

   of the mug in my hand

   warm as a rock along a mountain trail

   baked for hours of sun

   radiating even though the air is cool

   as though some fine particles

   of sun have been caught and held within

I hear your voice

There are words in the sound

That should somehow coalesce

Into sense, into meaning, yet

    I watch the light refracting

    on the liquid within my cup

    glittering as moonlight on the ocean

    Night air clings to my skin like wet silk

    I smell the rank seaweed and dying sealife

    Listen to the ocean’s rhythm as the water

    retreats and snatches

    scratches the sand

You are speaking words

I do not want to hear

I raise the cup and swallow

Allowing the rich earth tang to circle my teeth

Lie along and beneath my tongue

Before it slips down my throat

    Like long ago firefall at Yosemite

    over the cliff edge to a cool lake below

You are waiting for my response

The liquid within me cools

I raise my eyes to yours

Between us there is no sound

Only a quiet

    The stillness of a forest

    in the moment before dawn wakes the day

I have no words you want to hear

None that I dare speak

Beyond a plea for release

I ask, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

    My voice is like the twig snap

    that startles animal awareness

Our silence shifts to the tense waiting

Of the hunter and the prey

Then slides away

“Yes, I think I would like a cup.

Thank you.”

I rise to perform the ritual

Knowing that for now

We will sip the fresh brewed coffee together

    as the hunger and the fear

    retrace to their source

    on the seconds that pass

    while an infinity of sky

    gentles moment into moment

#CoffeeAndRitual #Poetry #TransitionalMoments #EmotionalTension