Sitting with
a gift-glass of excellent
Scotch, a Glenmorangie
Nectar D’Or aged in
Sauternes casks…yes,
an indulgence, yes, expensive
and rare; that’s the point of it,
it was a sacrifice,
it was given in love
and I drink it with love on
my mind. Lemony
start, honey on the tongue
with dark burn, a finish
built on notes of
regret at its ending and
joy that it was here and I
had this chance to taste it:
I’m not going to be ashamed
at this, you see, not while
so much wrong needs righting,
not while there’s so much need
to assuage pain and trouble;
for a few minutes
I’m going into this glass
to understand it as a golden
taste of an expression of love,
a trace of what a pure future
might be once we get past
this dim moment.
February 15, 2017
March 10th, 2017 at 6:39 am
Wonderful antidote for these days of endless tearing apart of our common fabric of decency. And I love Scotch.
March 9th, 2017 at 5:29 pm
Reblogged this on Laughter: Carbonated Grace and commented:
Ahh…..for a moment I delighted with you…..and I don’t even like Scotch. Such is the power of language. How then, can we capture and pass on the beauty some of us glimpse only in that ephemeral place of possibility so that those unsighted can taste and see that universal goodness in which we were created to live and breathe and have our being?
March 9th, 2017 at 5:21 pm
Ahh…..for a moment I delighted with you…..and I don’t even like Scotch. Such is the power of language. How then, can we capture and pass on the beauty some of us glimpse only in that ephemeral place of possibility so that those unsighted can taste and see that universal goodness in which we were created to live and breathe and have our being?