I sit.
Wood oaken table- I lean heavily and rest my arms, my limbs- they melt onto the solid surface.
They rest, blanketed by a faded flannel shirt, with a pillow in the form of a book of poems, written about Martha's Vineyard.
I smile. I'd like to go there someday.
"Death and a wilderness of dreams
Pursue my waking-
I have no poem for you this morning
Only surprise at friendship and farewell
The smoky trajectories of stars
Echo such music."
I sip.
An encompassing cup full of hot earl grey tea.
Lavender Bergamot is the soundtrack to my dreams- the scent of my memories.
I munch.
The most heavenly visitation incarnated into pastry- the bacon blue cheese scone.
It is for flavors like these alone that I carry through life.
I sit and I breathe and I close my eyes and I imagine Tulips and Desire and Sugarcane and I'm lost in a hazy reflection of moments gone by:
Moments of ocean, and moss.
Antique china and fresh oranges.
Harbors and paninis.
Fog and lilies-of-the-valley.
The clouds outside lift- the air heavy and thick with salt- and arid with daffodils.
I cannot tarry here long, my small coffee shop lover, the day pulls me forward with plans and goals and errands and business that will, no doubt, take a toll on my soul today.
But the Almighty is merciful- the universe is kind today.
For in the midst of my hustle and bustle day, I have received a blessed moment of peace-
And I am surrounded by the divine glow of love.
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