condensation slowly drips down
my plastic coffee cup,
which is mostly full of milk,
with a little chocolate and decaffeinated coffee
mixed in for good measure.
it reminds me of sweat that often beads
on the forehead of one of our resident priests
as he gravely hands out communion.
a deeply holy man regularly moved by grace,
he preaches with an eagerness
to relay the truths of love
that free the soul,
his kind voice rising as he brims with emotion
to tell of the grace of God,
even as he perspires
under the weight of glory
and heavenly garments.