Tea In The Wilderness
If you've abandoned the walled villages,
Of belief, faith, and dogma,
And Wander, alone, in The Wilderness,
You will not encounter many others there,
Where those requiring “knowledge” fear to go.
There, where even a lean-to or rocky ledge,
Is too much shelter against the Great Mystery,
Where a single word says far too much,
Where the mouth is shut, but the eyes…
Like a child's, are wide open in Wonder.
There, when you chance upon a Wanderer,
Gazing within, Absorbed in their own Vastness,
Unaware of your awareness of them,
You do not intrude upon that Inner Temple,
But quietly set a trap for their Heart.
In a place close by, unseen,
You build a fire, and make Tea,
Waiting… ever so patiently to see,
If their Soul can sense the Aroma,
And turn to find, the Wilderness in you.
If they should turn, and come to Drink,
Nothing is spoken of belief, or faith,
For they, like you, have abandoned such,
And only the song of the birds is heard,
And the rustling of The Unknowable…
Through the leaves of your Souls.