Sipping silently, sacchariferous tea
Made from the sap of foreign trees,
borne in the far flung mountains of Peru,
I hear the wind chimes chant in the distance-
The steam arises from the calescent cup of tea,
That sits quietly on the table stand waiting
And waiting, ever so patiently to quench my thirst,
Oh how the taste is enriching and warming to my soul!
I bring the cup to my lips and I am elated,
By the rich igneous mixture of tea, and
Mystical herbs that take to me to the hidden
Distant land of my soul’s longing.
Come and join me, o friend, in this beloved
Ritual of tea–I am waiting.
