Ode to a Vessel
Dear Useful Thing
You are more
than receptacle,
a pleasing weight
in my cupped hands.
You’re the one I reach for,
mornings when I stumble
into kitchen, into waking,
into day,
and if I haven’t said it aloud—
I love the way you receive,
unquestioning,
whatever I pour,
be it lukewarm or scalding,
and the plop of papery bag,
a little milk,
fine white stevia,
on occasion
a drizzle of golden honey.
You are gateway to the dawn,
invitation to sit,
come fully into my body,
peruse the morning’s offerings
of poems, news, salutations arriving
in the little box of phone
I also hold
(I’d like to say briefly,
but it does bring poems, after all).
Sometimes, you are the sweet bearer
of afternoon contemplations,
my cupped hands
holding your warmth
tenderly, as I would a child.
My dear, most useful one
you are also beautiful,
and yes, you spark delight,
appreciation, contentment.
I have wrapped and carried you
from one home to another,
finding the right shelf
to shelter you in comfort.
I thank the gods of pottery,
artisans, designers of mugs
and other lovely weighty hunks
of service and possibility,
Whoever brought this ware forth
from vision into the physical world,
to find a home
in my grateful hands.
–Melinda Coppola