Choosing Joy
Above the sea, morning rises bruised,
mottled pink and purple,
like it did battle in the dark hours
or collided with some celestial bedpost.
I watch the sky pass through
various stages of healing until it clears.
Back at the cottage, I study
my new supply of tea leaves
with deluxious descriptors like
- Coconut Macaron
- Peach Cobbler
- Chocolate Hazelnut
- Cuddletime
Names that invite me to
- slow down
- relax
- give thanks
- and celebrate.
Maybe I feel like
- a simple green jasmine
- or Darjeeling
- or Earl Gray
- or this stray bag of Zen
What about some chai topped with a little whipped cream?
I choose Joy.
I heat some water on the stove in the red kettle,
steep the blend of jasmine flowers,
orange peel, and essence of tangerine.
Tiny geckos scatter as I follow the brick path
to the white bench under the palms
near the empty birdbath.
I curl my legs under me, lift Joy to my lips.
But it’s too weak.
There is something profoundly stirring about this post Sandra. It makes me want to reach for a cup of Joy with you so that together, it will be strong enough for both of us to savour it.
That would give me so much joy, Louise.
Praying for stronger, deeper joy for you, my friend! Loved, loved, loved this poem!
Thanks so much, friend. Hugs.
Coming late to this post, Sandy, and loving it! Seeing your “Choosing Joy” instantly brought to mind Sara Frankl and her influence on me and how I perceive joy. I haven’t been back to her blog since the second anniversary of her death, when I wrote a post remembering her. Now I think I’ll go visit there. Maybe with a cup of tea, although my choice will be a cinnamon Chai.
Coming late to respond. I read this earlier and got to thinking about Sara. Gone too soon, two months before my mom. I just visited her blog, too. And I have her book on my iPad. Maybe it’s a good time to open it again.
Love chai. Lately I’ve been topping it with whipped cream…