Comforting memories from earthy brew

Literary

 

Grabbed from airbnb.com

The smell of brewed coffee,
the smell of earth,
burnt beans,
comfortably filling up
the room,
penetrating
the deepest recesses
of my olfactory canal,
teasing the bulbs,
tickling,
seducing,
lightly brushing
an overly sensitive bulge
that is about to explode.

I could taste the bitterness
of the ambrosia,
a source of warmth
on a cold, damp
rainy morning,
the sun gloriously peeking,
unable to decide
if it should bless
the earth today
or be covered
by the gloomy overcast
of a brewing storm.

Slowly,
I take a sip
of the glorious
burnt earthy brew
– loud and prolonged –
allowing
the early morning air
to brighten up the taste,
for the aroma
to delightfully flavor
the thick black potion
as it finally tickles
the inflamed buds
on my palate.

And then I am home,
comfortably sitting
on the porch
as the thick fog recedes
into the verdant forest
that surrounds
a beautiful commune,
birds preparing
for the morning choir,
harmoniously replacing
the lulling song of cicadas.

I could feel the cold
of the morning
comfortably penetrating
the pores of my skin,
and I cover myself
with a thin blanket
as I awaken
in my damp warm room
in New Manila.

And,
as in a cycle,
I prepare for the next sip
and the next surge
of comforting memories.