Glory Be To A Cup Of Tea

 Each day is the same, not like days

and weeks and months and years the same,

working in a factory, as a slave, in prison.

No, each day is simple and free and open

and beautiful taking in the kaleidoscope,

listening to the symphony of noises, 

the smells, the movements of bodies, 

their clothes…no…I’m not imprisoned by 

my mind. The simple expressions of

manifestation dance with my essence

in life’s performance; a ceremony of

innocence, the nature of the absolute.