An Ode to the Transforming Power of the Coffee Bean

Another contribution to Long Awaited’s Poetry Thursday. My love for coffee and my predilections for metaphor and introspection all came to a head in this.

I.

Oh little bean
that grows fat
and ripe
under the sun
in sedate happiness and
tranquility sublime
Do you not know your life
is just beginning
That all your basic traits will
morph with
time?

Your lovely skin will brown
and blacken
as you’re roasted o’er bright
heat’s flame
And your rich scents
escape as barriers slacken
Until you are
transformed,
deepened,
changed
in all but name

II.

Oh little roasted, hapless bean,
so sorely put upon
Your suff’ring mounts
as through the grinder
you trudge
The solidarity of
your individuality
powdered
and gone
And you reduced to no more
than black sludge.

Then the heat’s too great
to bear
and water’s flowing through
But your best traits
—your taste, your smell—
survive
You’ve changed from
simple bean
to complex brew
Your ugly
grounds
are filtered out
You are
very much alive.

III.

Oh little blended bean
now dancing in
my cup
Was this new state not worth
your trials and snares?
Your excess heat
and tears
waft slowly up
to leave you
drinkable, free of
former cares

Your purpose is achieved,
destiny found
As you bring joy
and energy
to my gray day
Though you still contain
the occasional ground
Your hard life then
makes you
warm
today

IV.

Oh beaten bean,
that I could be like
you as my
happiness
and calm
are
plucked
from
me
I have to endure
roasting
and grinding, too
When I am
powdered
down, useful may
I be

When I am harshly
filtered out
And purified by
stifling heat
May I sing rather than shout
And end up
A pleasant
cup
to everyone I meet.

V.

Pondering on God’s
precious bean,
I swirl my cup and think
I wish
my life to
emulate
the coffee that
I drink.

Death Tapped at My Window

In the midst of storm

A dark, heavy, rain-laden night

That bubbled up like tar from

A bright cool April,

Death tapped at my window.

-

Tap tap, he sounded,

But I only thought to hear

The rain upon the windowpane.

-

Tap tap, he rapped again,

But I only noticed flashes

And the crack of lightning.

-

The storm moved on.

I did not notice his tall form

Where it stood for

Just a moment

In the bright light of dawn

Before he faded with

The rain.

-

In the dusk of evening

A fresh, warm, golden twilight

That lingered on forever

At the end of pretty June,

Death hurried past outside.

-

Run run, he said (I think, to himself)

But I did not fear for me,

Because he was passing by.

-

Run run, he said again,

But I did not stop him,

Because he was in a rush.

-

The twilight moved on.

I lost track of his long shadow

Where it disappeared

In just a breath

Into the other gray shadows

Before he faded with

The light.

-

In the biting wind

A chill, dying, melancholy afternoon

That chased men from

The beginning of November,

Death passed me on the road.

-

Swish swish, went his robe,

But I feared to look,

In case he neared me.

-

Swish swish, went his robe again,

But I could only shiver,

As he passed me on the side.

-

The wind moved on.

I watched him stride away

As he moved along

With firm, long strides

Into my future

And though he disappeared,

I feared.

-

In the cold of dawn,

A freezing, stark, white morning

That froze the world’s rotation

In the middle of January,

Death knocked on my door.

-

Knock knock, he pounded,

But I hesitated,

Unsure if I was ready.

-

Knock knock, he tried again,

But I came slowly,

Feeling very young.

-

The dawn moved on.

I saw the light of day

As it came in to me

Like new life

That I began to understand

And so I reached to let

Him in.

-

Come in, I said,

And he smiled at me,

Because I understood.

-

Come in, I said again,

And let us have a drink

Before we go.