Carl Sandburg

I am the espresso—the tea—the cocoa—the mocha.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
I am the barista, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and
            drinks.
I am the caffeine that inspires history. The cappuccinos come from me
            and the smoothies. They die. And then I send forth more cappuccinos
            and smoothies.
I am the bean ground. I am an iced tea that will stand for much shaking.
            Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out
            and brewed. I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and makes
            me work and give up what I have. And I forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red velvet drops for history
            to remember. Then—I forget.
When I, the Coffee, learn to remember, when I, the Coffee, use the
            grounds of yesterday and no longer forget who brewed me last year,
            who played me for a fool—then there will be no speaker in all the
            world say the name: “The Coffee,“ with any fleck of a sneer in his
            voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The espresso—the tea—the cocoa—the mocha—will arrive then.

Related post