Oh, Yerba to the rescue... maté me. My brain falters down long miles of beached motivation and the sandy scramble of my thoughts threatens to backlog my day with one wasted hour after the next. My shoulders are tense as I flinch from too much coffee and hypochondriatic tendencies. You are the holy tea of anti-cancer and mental alertness mixed with physical relaxation, are you not? The treasured drink of Argentina designed to invigorate and be savored with others, hot or cold, it is impossible not to enjoy your earthy flavors and subtle rush.

Your polyphenols and mineral content rival even the holy grail of green tea. The antioxidants and vitamins contained within the secret of your South American leaves, will most definitely revive my body and restore my mental alertness, without the crash of an espresso. I was blind to your charms before, not understanding the gourd and the metal straw of your heritage, unable to dress you in lemon or cream as I would the others. I mistook the nutty bark flavor of your health bearing liquids for just another way to market the rainforest to save it from anhilation.

Yerba-maté, you are a rainbow of health bearing properties and I drink you in knowing more fully, just how much you love me too. You have become a part of me. Nourishing my cells and organs with your friendship, defending my DNA with your oxidative properties, chasing away fat cells from my thighs, and combatting the carcinogenic effects of the occasional cigarette. I know that I am suppose to drink you in moderation. But, some days.... I need the mellow, smoky taste of your kiss in my mouth, like today- and it is then that every part of my body says, "Thank-you and come again."

Yerba Maté, avec moi.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1920302,00.html