A while ago, I began writing out poetry as conversation during the meeting of a samurai and a teashop owner. I had no idea that one poem would turn into several with stories and other ideas to sprout from it. In any case, here is the "first" of their conversations. The back story, however, will be added to the second Tea Traveler book, as well as the poems once I've completed writing them.
I hope you enjoy.
Upon the fallen cherry blossoms
I sit, head uncovered.
I can still smell the blood,
fresh from the last man who
kissed my katana.
I rest now, watching the clouds
float over me - the battle
was in honour of my Lord.
My heart never stopped
the slow beating - my eyes never faltered.
The tea in my hands, given by her,
refreshes my soul.
I embrace the blossoms for now
until someone wishes to kiss my katana again.
Eyes now closed yet senses wide open.
Each Leaf, placed by my hands,
Each Leaf, grown by me,
breathes new life.
For in this moment, the Code
speaks to all.
Respect of the moment.
Do not deny that which is in front of you.
The first taste - savour slowly.
Release what holds you back.
Strike forward and drink from your cup.
He comes to me, worn and tired,
yet the steel is ever sharp.
Of my Code, there is that strength
that comes from a breath, pure from the Leaf.
The warrior speaks nothing
yet I can hear his thoughts, of Bushido defined.
My place is of Chado and I welcome him.