I love coffe and this was a poem that my cousin, Randy, found. Enjoy...careful, it may still be hot.

St. Arbucks is a Sacred Place
by Greg Asimakoupoulos

It’s communion… of another kind
where caffeine seekers can unwind
to drink in the sweet ambiance
that St. Arbucks provides.

As congregants both young and old,
we’re seated close and thus are bold
to talk of life (latte in hand)
and taste the mystery.

We lift the cup and share our lives
in honest words that aren’t contrived.
And if inclined, we all confess
our failures and our dreams.

St. Arbucks is a sacred place
where those who run the human’s race
can sip the nectar of the gods
awake to what is good.

It is quite sanctuary-like
where mothers and their little tykes
can find a refuge from routines
while seated near the fire.

There are no stained glass windows there
but those behind the “pulpit” care
about the thirst we long to quench
and “preach” through what they pour.

What Cheers was thirty years ago
is now St. Arbucks. Don’t you know?
A church where we are known by name
and feel like family.