Tea Between East and West

I long to drift where East drips into West,

And take my tea between the eyes of G-d,

For my breath brushes shade, wears of this quest.

 

Why does the worm die at its base behest,

While I endure the parting of those loved.

I long to drift where East drips into West.

 

They cry to me, those children of my nest,

To dance my last among flowers and friends.

But my breath brushes shade, wears of this quest.

 

The past whispers my name, locked in Time’s chest,

The kettle hiss pools into bays of sighs, 

It longs to drift where East drips into West.

 

Night seems to smother moon into its guest,

Since my window is cast with withered webs, 

And my breath brushes shade, wears of this quest. 

 

My skin does slump over blood and bone’s crest 

And yet, my tea is not yet warm with G-d. 

But I will drift where East drips into West, 

When my breath brushes shade, worn of life’s quest.