A pot of Darjeeling

A pot of infused Darjeeling brings to me

myriad thoughts and chronicles.

Some, make my day,

some ruin it so.

 

The pot of infused Darjeeling, brought to me, today,

a cup full of unpleasantness,

and a morning acerbic,

with a mood that will linger and follow me around, like an irritant toddler.

 

Then, I poured myself another cup of her,

and drowned myself in a bouquet of complex aromas

and found her slowly cajoling me, with her soft, mellow flavour,

into tranquility, trying to explain to me, the nothingness of it all.

 

With each sip, I realised

the futility of this world, the pointlessness of things around.

Realised and how, the vainness of this existence,

with the fatigue of a soul that’s given up on finding her lover.

 

The last pour from the fat pot, into my cup,

however changed perspective,

it asked me to not just glance, but feel life, intimately; I do.

In awe, I hear music again, a distant cheer, a disquieting giggle.

 

The pot of infused Darjeeling brought to me today,

myriad thoughts and chronicles.

Some, caustic, some ominous; But today,

it brought to me thoughts of amiable variety, and thus it made my day so.