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Tea Rituals
by Kristina WoodhillTea Rituals
I.
Porcelain red teapot still steeping black Earl Grey,
waiting for its tea cup that lies shattered, that lies scattered
pastry fears its glaze is crusting,
sunny-side up hunkered down
teaspoon knows
there'll be no stirring
other than words
rushing
crushing
pushing past
and
through
that often battered door;
from out this widening
daybreak's crack
a rodent peers
picking out and slicking clean
its family's favorite fork
II.
Porcelain red teapot still steeping matcha green
waiting for its tea cups that lie shattered, that lie scattered
no immortal moment
no meditative slurp
earth extends, instead, its heft,
reassigns deep harmony
internal battles, sumo style
wrestling rocks in mighty holds
gripping, ripping, stripping
any semblance here of calm
oh, Teishu, show me tranquility,
kind host, your hands have lost their dance
pink tulip blanched to white
wall scroll now ripped,
your whisper strained
“fall down seven times,
get up eight”
tsunami bares
its thirsty maw
while Fukushima bows
01/23/2018 Posted on 01/23/2018
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/26/18 at 04:07 PM I'm blown away from this. Love the drama and underlying turmoil brought to a boil. Fukushima...what a tragedy, and they want to hold some of the 2020 Olympic events near there, acting like everything's OK there. Bring your Geiger counters. |
| Posted by Brian Francis on 01/27/18 at 11:53 AM I really like this poem for its imagery and conciseness. Tragedy really does stop our world when it comes. A favorite of mine thanx --bf |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/14/18 at 02:01 PM Kristina, this was such a powerhouse poem to read. I come away from it both glad and sad in the same instance. I am both enriched am delighted to ventured to look upon it. |
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