The cup, once plain, a canvas white,
Now cradled gently in the light.
A brush, not dipped in paint or dye,
But in the well of memory, it lies.
The steam ascends, a fragrant curl,
Unfurling tales from heart's own world.
A childhood laugh, a joyous chime,
Sipped slow, a taste of youthful time.
The porcelain warms, a gentle hold,
Of secrets whispered, never told.
A first love's blush, a stolen glance,
A bittersweet and fleeting dance.
The liquid swirls, a mirrored sheen,
Reflecting battles fought, unseen.
Tears that welled, a silent fight,
Poured into darkness, fading light.
The cup grows heavy, laden down,
With triumphs won, a victor's crown.
Dreams achieved, a soaring flight,
Each sip a memory, pure and bright.
The bitter dregs, a lesson learned,
Of bridges burned, and trust that's turned.
Forgiveness sought, a wounded plea,
A bitter pang, a heart set free.
But deeper still, beneath the pain,
A wellspring flows, a gentle rain.
Of kindness shared, a helping hand,
Love's ember glows, it can withstand.
The cup, now stained with life's rich hue,
Holds wisdom earned, a gentler view.
Acceptance blooms, a calming sigh,
Embraces scars beneath the sky.
The final sip, a grateful pause,
For lessons learned, and life's applause.
The empty cup, held close and dear,
A brimming heart, forever here.
This vessel, though of humble birth,
A sacred space, a cup of worth.
It holds the essence, all we are,
A fragile treasure, near and far.
So raise a cup, to life's sweet brew,
A tapestry of what we knew.
With every sip, a memory shared,
The cup of heart, forever cared.
About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
Comments (1)
It is very lovely.