CUP OF COFFEE

From the seed...

Birth is given to a nectar of blackness...

The Perfect Conditions...

A bean is born...

Either creating more of the same...

Or unlimited bliss in the flesh of humans...

And that nectar is attractive...

Creating a purpose for its additives...

Yet not a requirement...

An attachment maybe for the flesh...

Aye that nectar creates a purpose...

For the container...

For the consumer...

For the cultivator...

For the purveyor...

For the farmer and the farm...

For the elements...

Taking in, recreating and distributing...

Tis but a perfect balance of actions and reactions...

A black hole of sorts...

Only held and managed by the liberated...

A bliss that awaits...

For those knowing and not knowing...

Tis but a beautiful gift from the Earth...

A cup of nectar that is full for the empty...

A cup of nectar that is empty for the full...

Aye, what a tasty pot of soil...

doM