The Tao of Tea
by Judy Seicho Fleischman
The tea today
has much to say,
the cup
half full,
water and air
touching
half empty.
See suffering,
see joy.
There has always been a choice.
Falling
into the well,
something always catches you.
The old ones
never stopped feeling.
There is no stopping
and no starting either.
Why becomes meaningless,
Irrelevant.
All there is
is water and air
warmed by fire
bringing out the flavor
of earth;
these leaves
falling,
caressed by sunlight,
nourished by rain,
breathing out,
breathing in,
finding their way
mysteriously,
unexpectedly,
without any effort at all
to your bowl,
this cup,
drink up.
Look
those few leaves
lingering
at the bottom of the well.
Are they dead now
or alive?
All questions are answered in time.
Hand moves
without question
towards the source,
fills the cup once more.
An endless cycle
of give and take,
birth and death,
contained
within one cup,
this cup
filling and emptying
over and over.
That singular intersection
of all the elements
merging,
flavors mingling,
revealing
clear
resonant
joy.
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