Written by @linzo
Like a mad man I went for the pure enjoyment of it all,
gluttonous in my choices for pleasurable peril.
As the coffee tasted bitter- sweet, froth running off my tongue,
my taste buds were tantalised beyond any torque.
A twister formed past a simple appetite,
revealing the force behind the irresistible delight.
Still tasting the beans at the garden’s hand,
wisdom transcending sense travelled to the porters land.
For how can the coffee bean make the gardener?
And how can gardener mould the platter?
A full table brought together by a hidden player,
only seen in lit faces of enjoyment in prayer.
For what is to make without a maker?
A salt shaker lies obediently still without a shaker?
Image credit: https://wonderwomantalks.com/2012/09/30/sssssensuality/