Good Morning I Love You

It's what I say every morning.

Yes, every morning to my lover. I usually wake before her, even by a few minuets. Her hair falls to her pillow and into half of her face and I find myself forgetting to breathe. She suspends reality for me, just for a moment. When she opens her eyes and as her senses come online, I always, always whisper to her in my most clear and gentle voice, "Good Morning. I Love You.". There is a pause between the two phrases. Just to convey the gravitas of what I am saying and to give it that soft lilt that I mean it to carry. I am grateful, yes, that she is there. I cannot think of her not being there any longer. As you, the reader shall see, this will be an exercise in love that two can share. The love and devotion and care that I feel for her is astonishing to me. I am lucky to share it with you and even more lucky to think that she is in love with me and wants that to remain in place for the rest of our lives. My intention here is to allow you to dream freely. Let yourself be taken from your place and time, just as we are. Suspend disbelief that the ordinary is even allowed to be. Replace reality with a snapshot to a dream. Join us for a moment as we turn phrases in love to one another and with and for you. Welcome traveler. Will you rest and dream with us for a while?

Day 16 – Heartwood


heart·wood : ˈhärtˌwo͝od/


The dense inner part of a tree trunk, yielding the hardest timber.


Not a sapling

willowy green youth

yearning to flower

to be

to rise

to shoulder the sun’s love

spread your seeds

malleable to the fickle wind

ever bowing to natures mastery


Not with a frail center to give way

with the next breath

pithy and pitted and hollow

to forgive and yield

to return in grace

to the edge of the sun’s shadow

shoulder to shoulder with your seed

malleable to the fickle wind

ever bowing to natures mastery


The balance

the fulcrum

between the worlds

of verdant rise

mushrooms under ferns

Now risen and complete

under full bloom

malleable yet resilient

to the fickle wind

ever bowing to natures mastery


The Heartwood

the center

the core

the overflowing abundance

that is the center of the masterful life

as lived at this time

and in this place

by this man

and with you, beloveds

ever bowing to natures mastery


How do I respond

what must I choose

what shapes must I make

what is the color of my Heartwood

now that I find myself

in that maturity

here and now

ever bowing to natures mastery


I have received the invitation

to the abundant table

made of Heartwood

offered of my ancestors

and given to a life

now of service

this richness of giving

ever bowing to natures mastery


May I listen to the whispers

of the wind through my branches

May I know the density of my bones

May I know the flow in the sapwood

and sense its rhythm

May I provide the Heartwood

for my beloveds table

that they may behold the strength

of my ancestral offering.


Kona, Hawaii – Feb 2018

Day 15 – How to Make Coffee

The way to make Coffee is to begin by capitalizing Coffee


I sense the hand of the worker

who labors for the sake of my beloved

Yet they perhaps have no sense

of my expectation

as they caress each cherry into the waiting

of that expectation

That perfect moment

where potential collapses

into reality


No machine astute enough

for the harvest of love

that is mine to serve

Only touch of being

will suffice to draw from the Earth

that which pleases and serves

the suspenseful palate


Drawn to the release

the cherries fall into plural surrender

Releasing into the world the seeds

that they were created to create

Not beneficent creation, replication and obvious destiny

but macerated, fermented, hulled, dried, spread, turned, repeat


Chattle, rattle and hum

Whir, pitch and toss

Shed away your parchment bindings

free your essence

Attention is so not needed

but attention means care, is love, is care

Where will you travel

to whom will you bring your new freedom?

Cultivating in us

that which is only yours to know and to bring


Green you are and green you came

Transformed you become

The heat of the roaster

and the knowing of the hands, eyes and nose

brings to you the tempest

Catalyzing you

Calling forth that which requires the alchemy of clock and fire

You are now an Arabian or perhaps an Ethiopian

or from the dark heart of Sulawesi

where apes howl out your name into the sunrise


You are honored here now

more than most can be regaled and regarded

a Diplomat of civility in an uncivilized world

offering that which only you can bring

to the conversation

to the story

an offering of the Sun and Earth

in your very composition



Ceramic and Iron await you

You give yourself into the burr’s grip

the whir

the crush and grind

You offer at my asking

and I ask of you everything

Yet you give and give again

bringing your very body, life, oil and glory

into the press

My gratitude begins to increase

with each aroma and texture

and unfolding steeping moment


It is here that the alchemy of the love

that led you

arrives here

Strange bedfellows from Ceylon, Penang and Malabar

The finest of pale yellow cream

the gift of a warm Jersey with wide brown, soft eyes

The life of those

whom give life

Golden honey now, pale straw hued threads of clover

Stir Stir Stir


Stir Stir


Today it will arrive to you

and arrive you to

an expectation that bears little anticipation

as I create this for my beloved

each and every day

that is a day

This is what you came for

and the here of it is now

The now of it is here


This magical arrival of Earth and water

wind and sky, Sun and love

is my offering in the porcelain chalice

from the gift shop of Monet’s majesty

in Giverny, of course

covered in the same riot of color and intention

that once adorned

your bright red summer clothing

in the flowering of your offering that you now give.


Time for Café, dearest.



February 2018