Your day is like your favorite mug.
You fill it with the necessary stuff
to survive in this world.
Those days
let me be the seasoning.
Other days I get to fill it with your favorite brew
as well as mine,
vanilla and chai leaves and
inside jokes
and a dollop of raw honesty
and honey.
I will gently blow on your day
when it's too hot,
cup my hands to share in the warmth
and fill it with spirits along the way.
Never will I leave your mug
on the countertop with coffee grounds
at the bottom for days.
Don't judge me by my propensity to blast Van Halen
or how I casually enter the bathroom
to brush my teeth while you're peeing
and not pick up on that unhappy look on your face.
Judge me instead by how I thread my fingers through the handle
of your day,
lift the rim of your world to my lips
and drink in your story.
Art credit: "Red Coffee Mug," oil painting on canvas, by Kit Hofer.
Smiling broadly at the "don't judge me" stanza! And even though it's only 3 am, I'm drinking from "my favorite mug."
ReplyDeleteThank you for posting this wonderful poem -- and for the image which serves as illustration!
Smiling at 3am?! That makes ME smile.... You're very welcome, Thomas.
DeleteI almost always have a cup of something nearby. Love this metaphor--what a delightful poem with its own sweet depth. May life be good to the last drop.
ReplyDelete