This Moment


The list is long and time
Runs through my fingers
No way to hold on
And so I write as
The kettle gurgles
Tea leaves swell
kissed by the boiling heat

What do I do
With this moment or the next
Thoughts,
may they bloom
As red roses in the garden

The list is long and I
Won’t tire
Not yet
Tea calls upon me

A cup nestles
perfectly in my hands
like a newborn, a lover, a kiss
I inhale and the aroma
Subtle yet profound in its familiarity
How it tickles my memories
Tenderly
Grandmother’s house
Teapot over Samovar
Touch of her hands
Flavors of childhood
Scent of heaven
Feeling of love

Taste is bitter
It is sweet
As are my memories
And my past
It lingers for a while

I am here
The list is long and time
Once again flows
Down the hill
Out of reach

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