4
teatime
to tea with an English gentleman of middle age:
he comes lightly from his garden, his hands still carrying traces of leaf scent and currant...in his brown friendly eyes, honey-golden speckles dance.
on the little table stands a bouquet of not quite young roses. the tea smells bitter and fresh.
and now tranquility settles in.
the English know how to celebrate this. the fragrant smoke rising from the cups centers and satisfies the mind. and creates space for an effortless cheerfulness.
thousands of such teatimes have been witnessed in this room. a fine veil of smoke hangs in the furniture, the slanted light of the afternoon sun caresses their golden silhouettes....
for a moment, the world is in balance....
he comes lightly from his garden, his hands still carrying traces of leaf scent and currant...in his brown friendly eyes, honey-golden speckles dance.
on the little table stands a bouquet of not quite young roses. the tea smells bitter and fresh.
and now tranquility settles in.
the English know how to celebrate this. the fragrant smoke rising from the cups centers and satisfies the mind. and creates space for an effortless cheerfulness.
thousands of such teatimes have been witnessed in this room. a fine veil of smoke hangs in the furniture, the slanted light of the afternoon sun caresses their golden silhouettes....
for a moment, the world is in balance....
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