In Demand of a Second Sip

Let there be a word,
let a word come,
let a word survive,
...one that has never before
been used anywhere—
this demand has raised a storm today.

That word
in the coffee cup
for that first sip,
the sip that has come at last...
after a long night's waiting,
after long contemplation,
after doubt and lethargy,
after telling yourself this:
before you now
only two paths lie open...
either remain still
upon your own two knees—
let whatever blows come;
or rise up,
face the truth,
forgive yourself this once,
be curious,
see what lies ahead!

Today when
the very word 'heaven'
is buried with hell,
the very word 'peace'
is threaded with war's conditions,
the meaning of joy itself
is a mirror of anguish,
then today
what comes to fill
the skeleton of words?

When living in hell means
swallowing tears,
when the sun rises
and begins
the living of sighs,
know this well—
in the coffee cup
the second sip then
is truly far more
longed for than the first.