Reading Tea Leaves

As I sip my tea
at the bottom of the cup
are tea leaves
I try to read them
but I cannot interpret
I run my finger tips on the veins
of their skin trying to feel
the life that runs through them
assimilating with the life in mine
thinking I might feel something
yet left still with an emptiness
I stand up to inhale the
the breath of life around me
wondering if this will
sate my sensorial vats
the vacuum that surrounds me,
thinking it will explain to me
my relevance, fill me
with knowledge and understanding
of why I’m here and how does this space
I'm filling where I stand affects that
which came before me and
how it will affect he or she
that will soon replace me
when I’m gone?
I stand here alone,
breathing in, wondering

a leaf moment

Once its veins full with chlorophyll
holding strong on it’s limb
the beating rain tickles
on its belly and dances
in its glittering gown
grasps tightly to the limbs hand
against the swales of wind
and winged giants come
and sit upon its chest
yet it holds on and flutters
and waves when its feathered
friend flies onto another
the warm and sometimes
hot sun scorches its face
but soon the coolness of the moon
lets it sleep quietly
and in the morning comes
another frenzied day

Now rusted and weak
a soft breeze catches its cheek
it lets go of its once strong hold
silently it floats down and rests
upon the lap of sinuous
grasses that for whom it once
provided shade and now it lays
its furled body on a golden field
that wears miniature rainbows
from a morning dew
sleeping now in unrequited attention
with a smile on its crested face
its fulfilled the cycle of life
now food for Mother earth
no less important than
the caterpillar and butterfly
I understand and praise
its short sojourn