Advice From a Poet Father
It's quite simple, really,
So my poet father said:
Scald the China tea kettle,
Swirl hot water inside.
Toss the water out.
Place tea leaves, fragrant, waiting,
In the scalded teapot.
Pour boiling water over,
Cover with a cozy, simple or fancy.
Leave it to rest
In reverie
In calming solitude for ten minutes.
Allow it to achieve magical fusion.
Meanwhile,
Enter the adjoining room,
Pen in hand,
Craft a poem,
Let words blend like steeping tea.
Return to the brewed serenity,
Sip at the kitchen table or
Stand by the spiral staircase,
Watch the cat, lazily sunning.
Gaze at the lemon tree,
Its leaves lush, green and yellow,
In the garden below.
Tea tastes better this way.
Return to your poem.
Revise line by line.
Tea and poetry, hand in hand,
Flavours mingling with imagery.
Now you have a good poem.
Patience, Poetry, Pottery—
Fine companions, indeed.
Anytime Prayer
Grandfather was knowledgeable about Nutrition
Much ahead of his time,
He ate raw garlic which had a smell
He took long walks with long strides
And talked about the benefits of jogging,
‘Chew, Chew, Chew your food
Thoroughly’,
He kept saying
At meal times, that bothered us
Both grandma and me.
Lord, in this era of health consciousness
And so much overwhelming information
About what to eat and what not to eat
(Like one day chocolate is good for you and the next day bad)
Help me to remember grandfather,
But send me Manna
From heaven
I’m sure it smells sweeter
Than raw garlic,
And I will not grumble.
Morning Prayer
When will you visit me Lord?
You do not need an appointment
The tea has ginger in it
And I am ready.
Kavita, may your tea always be sweet with hints of ginger, and no garlic! Such lovely poems.
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