It's another fresh morning as it rocks and creaks, this old chair,
And the lingering grogginess is whisked away by the cool air.
Myriad patterns of the white against the brown dance for the eyes,
And the cup spreads warmth to the veins through the fingers hugging it tight.
The earthy aroma of the faraway lands gives a big jolt,
And the tongue unites with sweet frothy milk and bitter espresso.
As coffee meets morning senses, it's a hard-to-describe feeling,
One of pure joy never failing, intensity never waning.
It's the same coffee in the same cup that satisfies every day,
But why can't everything in life be as perfect as it is made?

Mankind’s glorious creations, triumphs, grandeur and sway
Turn stale and start to decay as they fade away by the day.
When the new sun rises, man rinses and refreshes those out of date,
And delivers a new look and shine, his day fruitful again!

(Translation of verse 212 of DV Gundappa's Manku Thimmana Kagga, a Kannada literary masterpiece).

The ask was an outward form of their deeper yearning.
“What do you do?” they asked him at the bar that cold night.
He saw their eyes were on his thick cashmere clothing,
An embroidered coat with mink fur collar that hugged him tight.

The wrap was a display of confidence and elegance,
An attempt to fit into the ever-morphing world,
The world that fueled his desires to outpace themselves,
And offered a terse nod, a fleeting applause for his conquests.

He slowly undid the buttons adorned with precious stones,
Raised hands up in the air and swiftly brought them down.
The suffocating fabric slithered slowly down his back
In a silky motion freeing him from his own prison.

He tossed the jacket on the nearby empty chair
As the warmth of the fireplace and chill of the outside air
Swept softly over his thin white shirt caressing his heart,
And goosebumps popped and hair on his arms stood up taut.

His eyes turned away from the choking memories of his victories,
And into their awestruck eyes he looked directly and intently
As the weight on his inner light lifted ever so gently, completely.
“I do what I am born to do!” he then declared emphatically.

He turned around, his form plain without his gaudy coat,
And creaked open the heavy oak door and walked out.
They followed him in the cold breeze towards the awakening dawn,
Their hearts open, minds calm and their coats left behind.