A cure for a cold night or a lonely heart

A dollop of honey drops in the bottom of a mug
Sticky, sweet and stiff
Translucent and golden, it rests.
In pours warm milk, first in droplets -
and then a silken stream
Silvery fluid-smooth and free
It dances around the honey
The honey, it sits, stuck to the bottom
Unmoving, unyielding to the playfulness of the milk
Time ticks, warmth spreads
The boundary between them seem to blur
The honey is less viscous now
The molecules pull at each other until new bonds are made
The thirst has been subsided
Attachment has been formed
State of ‘dissolved’ has been achieved
The honey has become milk has become honey…

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

I love honey; pure that is. A worthy poem describing honey and its benefits.
Long live honey!
You got the cure.