Tabby On Tiles, 7/23/2017

tea from leaf

finest loose-leaf tea

holds flavors of place and time

within its buds,

like next season’s fruits

asleep in flowers

as yet unopened

in winter’s chill.

draw forth their

somewheres and their

sometimes

in the infusion of hot water

and skillfully dried leaves

that is the tea we share.

we are carried to the

edge of a realm

as cold and temperamental as

Shiva,

to the foothills of the Himalayas

and the tea estates of

Darjeeling.

fragrant steam and

delicate flavor

wreath our heart-thoughts,

bond porcelain moods,

revive fugitive memories,

and transform longing to

gratitude,

as you wait, and I

watch,

sharing tea.

© Sealanehill 2017

for @soulreserve

NYC near 125th St., 7/28/2018. Especially for @soulreserve

Parvati

I see her from afar, Sitting alone in the early day, Tracing gossamer thoughts And hearing the whispers Of her heart. Her muse is the One Who is not there, The One who is Inaccessible, Yet whose presence Is so real that He stirs the deepest passion Of her womanly soul. Thoughts shape images, Murmurs, words And she sings Of smoke and fire, Incandescent and all-consuming, Of drink so concentrated One sip intoxicates. I listen, taken by her music Toward her heart’s Center, Hoping for invisibility, That my presence not Disturb her muse, Hoping to be unseen By her consort, Shiva, Should he return While she is in her Bliss. ©sealanehill, 2017 For @soulreserve

Easter Monday In the silence of this Unexpected storm Spiky daffodil leaves Thrust upwards Green exclamations In the fast-growing blanket. 4/2/2018 Maplewood NJ

Welcome to Disneyland!

I don’t know what community the owners of Tumblr think they’re protecting, but mine does not exclude erotica (AKA « adult content »). This change is yet more evidence that the owners of this and other platforms are in fact publishers and should be held to account for their content. (I’m looking at you, Facebook.)

@istiyorum gökyüzünü simsiyaha boyamak: Thank you. Danke. Merci beaucoup. Gracias. Gracie!!

 In the solace of mist

Rhine full of  emaciated ghosts , clear faces with manic hatchets ,  disappointed trunks , floating flowers , agonizing masks , rustling dreams , palpitating empty baskets , plodding branches  &   thoughts of blithe martyrs

Like all the rivers

Equation of Time, I : Miriam