Today’s post is traced from D.H. Lawrence’s “Peace.” (Click here to see the source poem.)
Purpose
Purpose is waiting around the block
in coffee.
Purpose, creamy purpose dissolved.
My life will only find purpose
when the cafe opens.
Secret, penetrating coffee,
secret as rush hour traffic,
swimming like a lovelorn mallard up the river against the tide.
Buildings, parks, cars,
always in the soft haze of coffee.
Buses inches from the corner,
and the corner just yards away from the coffee shop.
Purpose dissolved in creamy coffee around the block.
Within, deep brown coffee, always with purpose
till it opens subtly, inviting the day;
to race always through veins,
warm creamy veins.
Call it Purpose?
The Daily Compost 