Two households, both align in new craving, In coffee houses, where we lay our scene, From ancient sludge break to novel braving, Where civil bloods brew concoctions from beans. For as these foes in strife fight and inveigh A pair of Starbuck’s lovers take their life; While Juliet likes Pumpkin Spice Lattes Romeo’s dark roast dependence is rife.
The way out of the darkness is obvious: First, admit you cannot see; Second, listen so you may learn; Third, speak so others may find you; Fourth, reach out to find the world around you; And fifth, feel what you feel.
We are all unstable; yet some of us balance better than others.
There is the strongman who stands upon the ground balancing; And nothing (not wind, nor rain, nor sleet, nor snow) will make him move; A thousand tiny muscles constantly adjusting inside; While he smiles, immobile, before the onslaught.
There is the child playing with motion; Mother gently holding hands; Who swings from side to side until he holds the spot; And their laughter makes him fall.
There are the lovers, hands interchanged; One swaying left and the other swaying right; As they learn that balance together Is easier than balance alone.
And then there are the dancers, Who flow the instability from extreme to extreme, Swaying to some beat they hear and we see, And we cannot look away.
True beauty though, True beauty, Comes in the circus. As the dancers hold the lovers Who hold the children Who hold the strong men Who hold the dancers; As the music courses and A rhythm takes hold That hides the imperfections; We strum strum strum In beat beat beat To the sway sway sway; And balance together With music from nowhere Turns instability to art.