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Gen Mai Cha

 

Steeping in you,

pungent leaves

soaking to soft

in the warm wet brew

that melts out of us

when we mix,

I take you in

watch, feel myself change

you change

slowly

and not slowly,

 

softer, softer,

crusts dissolving,

dances within dances.

 

The intricacy pleases me,

intrigues me.

We are only so slightly

beginning.

 

Good to take time to breathe open

the heavy rosewood doors

that lie in the dark

under years of silt,

down in the watery depths

where light is long forgotten

and fish have no eyes.

 

So much unknown and unknowable,

but this I know for sure:

you will be as surprised as me

to see where this path is taking you

me

us.

 

Is there anything better

than this trembling place of not knowing,

waiting expectant

to see what brew this will become,

sitting quietly

and not so quietly

day after day

on the shelf of the south window,

welcoming the hot

hot sun?

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