Saturday 28 August 2021

Memories without remedies 
long for Spring.

Aquarelle skies,
Lethargic 
above the cedars,
the smokey grey thickens
as though, 
everything true 
stirs out from its melancholy.



Everything aches, 
stiffles in my soul, 
not a word will murmur.

My note book, my pen, and i 
thriving to relate, 
And nothing happens.
So
i watch the rain; knees tucked on the couch
with a bowl of steaming hot tea.

In circumstances such as this, 
a cup of tea has unexpected graces, unexpected virtues, 
almost 
spiritually redeeming;

Spirituality sometimes can 
sit in a cupful of flavours . 

In those tea leaves, 
an ascending fragrance 
drawn from Earth's own Soul set into my whole being.


Today,  
is one of those days 
where the warmth in the tea 
had all its meanings.
Anything done with depth responds
 equally in a deep manner; 
Even drinking Tea.

Dramatically, 

it transforms all your sighs into a love letter.
Shifting you into your sunlights.

Roots crackle within you,
Moving

like the prana from your hara, 
synchronsing 
with everything that hides behind - stones, streams and laughter.

You came to refuge yourself
on a blank page 
End up
celebrating
the purity of life.

A sip of tea.



.

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