Do start with fresh beans
(Don’t accept less)
Do set the kettle on the boil
then grind the beans, fresh
(Don’t grind too coarse, or it will be weak
Don’t grind too fine, or it will be muddy
But do as you wish) to your taste.
(Don’t watch the kettle, as they say.
For a kettle watched while working is self-conscious
just as you or I.) Instead,
watch the day wake up through the window.
When the kettle rattles and whistles, take it from the burner
pour the water slowly, in a circle, letting it mix with every single ground,
like the happiest child at their own birthday party.
(Don’t rush this,
for it is how water and grounds mingle
and first impressions make a difference.)
Do let it bloom
(Don’t put the lid on too soon
Don’t fear it will get cold too soon.
It won’t.) Please, do let it bloom.
Then pause and behold,
the water and grounds now the color of cedar,
the smell of warm places, favorite nooks, misty mornings.
Then stir the bloom, the crema that is coffee’s
most perfect moment
Do put the lid on, and slowly,
slowly, slowly press
(Don’t rush this, trust me.)
Do, at last, pour your first cup
Hold in both hands
and bring to your lips, inhaling,
letting the steam tickle your still sleepy eyelashes
Don’t rush this either
none of this should be rushed
but savor. Savor.