If you knew exactly where these Leaves came from
Would that change how you feel about Them?
Would that change the way you feel while serving Them?
If you knew my past and future
Would that change how you treat me?
Memory is tenuous
It slips and slides beyond our grasps
Stories can be written and rewritten
But we can never truly paint the entire picture of what took place in the Tea space.
The mothers who were hidden away by historical archives
The voices disregarded for the sake of grandeur
I never want to feel like I have arrived.
The true Tea masters are the ones who have had their hands kneading leaves all day long
The slender fingers that bend the stems and pull the essence back into matter.
I am only a vessel
So pour me out and empty my heart
I want to be filled up again by the unknown
Walk into The emerald city of forgotten times
Fling scrolls of light into the sky
And open myself up to the infinite cascade of cosmic intelligence
Spirit and matter melding together
Incineration in the chamber of my heart
Let me live with wild abandonment
As the Universe is my witness
Let these tears of rage and sorrow fall into the earth
As these crashing waves on the rocks bear witness
Let this heart break open and cry for the darkness it must traverse to reach out
Out to feel
Out to heal
Out to remember
Stretching to grow