Friday, September 17, 2010

Green Tea

A prepubescent blossom clings to its stem- hard and waiting to ripen,

Premature and precocious, desperate to grow

Clutching onto its providing base, It throbs with an ache to be fed


When suddenly a muddy hand plucks it from its grounding,

tearing and abusing it until it is nothing but a small pile of shreds

It has been minimized into a dark mass of flattened scraps

Shavings like glitter, laced with leftover dirt and air.


Directly across the globe

It has arrived to me: eager like a growing flower,

a self-interested consumer, waiting to be fed.


I remember sitting with my parents on the livingroom couch.

They ask how my day was and my mother makes me tea

Dependent as I was, I was embracing youth but still always waiting for adulthood

The tea was handed to me, I clutched onto the hot handle

To at first tentatively sip,

then devour the last luke-warm gulps

of the extracts and antioxidants

What was in my cup were the only remains of the victim of an untold murder story.


And yet, I've continued to flourish and grow

Diving head first into adulthood

Assisted by the health and comfort

That the aborted remains of tea blossoms have given me.

No comments:

Post a Comment