Dear Espresso,
You are known by many different names to many different peoples, but that doesn't change your beauty or your majesty.
Whether in a grande iced low-fat mocha (no whip) or in a steaming venti cappuccino, you are literally what gets me through the day. For hundreds of years, you have been the driving force for humanity's greatest achievements as well as the comforting vice the day after a bitter defeat. Your positive attributes are many, and you have but one flaw: when you are served by yourself, you only come in a tiny cup.
Now that isn't your fault, really, and I won't hold it against you. Your richness and explosive combination of flavors is truly magical no matter your size. As one shot, you are great. When four shots of you are in my large mocha, then you are flawless.
I must also apologize. I must apologize for the things I said about you when I was younger. In my defense, I was green and I was naive. Until the fateful day when I mistook a peppermint mocha for a peppermint hot chocolate, I denounced you and everything related to your caffeinated glory. I hope that one day, when I am wound-up at 2 am, you will forgive me. I hope that you will forgive me for the things I said, and for the things I did not do.
I write this as a humble servant to your bean lineage. In fact, I believe that you and chocolate are tied for the most amazing things to come from a bean (and that, my dearest friend, is saying something).
I write this, also, to tell others of how you pick me when I am down. You wake me in time for a prayer breakfast, and keep me up when a paper or Odyssey article is due. In fact, you and several ounces of froth are propelling these words form my brain through my fingers and onto my computer. You are helping me write your own praises. Incredible.
I'm afraid that I may sound redundant in professing my love and affection, but as I am a lowly college student, my tongue is not yet versed in your intricacies and peculiarities.
One day, I will discover your secrets. One day, when I am far away from papers, midterms, finals, and early mornings, I will devote to you the time you deserve. For now, however, I am an empty cup waiting to be filled to the brim with steamy, thick, delicious, and exotic savor. Your aroma should fill cathedrals and domes, as well as my kitchen and home.
You see, when I partake in your special brew, I feel connected to the movers and to the shakers of our world (past, present, and future). You, my dear espresso, are the bridge the connects their worlds to mine. Your light shines brighter than every other warm beverage, and I pray that it will continue to do so until the very last bean is steamed.
In Humble Servitude and in True Sincerity,
An Espresso Fanatic
