My morning cup of tea
is flavoured with cinnamon,
fresh green smell of
ferns, Diphenbachias and Arelias
from my balcony..
the misty dewy whiff of the sea.
Colour-enhanced
by the golden rays
of the morning sun.
The bells of the temple down
makes it divine ritual..
With every noiseless sip
with the sweet sound of birds
my mind is sorted
and so is my day..
But one odd day
when I held my cup of tea
and thought about stories
shared with friends
over a cup of tea,
I saw my soul stir up
in the stillness of hot tea
when I remembered the brew
shared with a friend
The last cup
the tragic end..
And in my hand
the cup of tea
turned cold
just as me.
We are so busy with our lives that we do not really pause and reflect on small pleasures of life. My tea time is a ritual I love...main aur meri chai.. It is also reflective, a short pause when I switch off from the word to have an inner dialogue. I remembered once the chai shared with a very dear friend and someone who is no more...there were endless memories in that last cup of chai we shared.
Copyright mridual aka writingdoll. No work should be reproduced or copied without my written consent.
