A Common Crest

A Common Crest:
A Poem

Two friends exchange rings around dissimilar lines of verse.
The first, from a pensive, prompt, palpitating poem—
The next, from a soft, soulfully structured sonnet.

“Time races through city streets like a pigeon feather drafting a bus.”
“Love waits like a cottage on a country horizon.”
—phrases within bitter brown and floraled tan fences.

The two friends inhabit the same routine, but preach different gospels:
One of “go make disciples,” the other of “stay and pray.”
—One a proselytizing evangelist and the other an ascetic monk.

Each with a parish constructed of varying flavors and music.
Clanking dirty spoons beat to the rhythm of whirring grinders—
Contrasted with quiet pen scraping set to the tune of bubbling waters.

Within the heart of their temples, rest their respective vessels.
A ceramic castle insulating skin from steam.
A porcelain garden sprouting a dainty handle.

They share the same family, or at least a common crest.
They are brothers feuding over power and identity.
You may know them by their Christian names, Coffee and Tea.

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