My morning cup, filled
The wonder! Why in the world
That this could be so
Would we allow it
Our eyes and mind be lifted
And we’d rise with Him
Coffee, simple coffee
I do not ask for more
Not a finer blend than my nemesis
Nor a larger cup than my neighbor
I can cultivate the fruit on my own
If the sun is not stolen away
I can create a rich roast to crush
If my body is not relegated
Conversations we could have
My brother
Would I pour for you
Would you pour for me
Would we meet for coffee each day
I’m learning how to cry in deep despair and pour my blessed hot coffee at the very same time
Pain and gratitude in the same cup, indeed
I’m becoming better at praying goodness for others at my broken heart’s expense
Love and sacrifice from the same vein, it frees
I’m deciding to live with the dread of the box I was put into and with hope that I’ll one day be free
Abuse and healing in the same lifetime, glory
Mere fumes as their fuel
Never, however, my soul
I wonder not, why
Until eight-thirty
Else when my cup is emptied
I shall keep breathing

Hope was the first One
Who danced within my thoughts and
Kissed my lips this morn'
His fire warmed my bones
He gifted to me a cup
Half full and intact