Your hat strategically dipped below one eye...

One of the journal prompts in a recent Awe-Manac entry encouraged readers to write a poem about an odd juxtaposition; this morning I chose to combine two of the suggested options: rain in a desert and sunshine in a coffee mug.

(Even if the end product is a silly poem, a drawing of a tree that doesn't look like a tree, or a paragraph at which you will look back on and roll your eyes, I encourage you to have your own "creative time" in the morning.)
...
Both seem vast and hauntingly empty,
a strange comparison given the cosmic scope.
I look out in one, down in the other,
my eyes flooded with nothing, yet my mind consumed.
Wasteland? No. But longing for something? Yes.
The hand-thrown, shades of tan, mug sits quietly on the table,
still in the way the shades of tan grainlets seem to lay dying.
They wait, both hopeful of an unprovoked, out-of-their-control surprise,
a gift from some god displeased by the void,
an offering from one who needs neither welcome mat nor semi-circle, curled-finger motion.
It might arrive if patience and pure luck prevail;
maybe as a trickle, one noticeable only when squinting into fabricated light;
maybe an abundance of breakfast blend #2 flowing from the transparent pot.
Coffee mug, be filled, desert dune, be surprised.
***
Snippets of my life in coffee shops and cafes...




















***
Damn clouds.