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The Still-Point of Tea
We do not seek escape,
but we find it.
We do not seek silenc,
yet it gathers here.
We do not seek to define,
the cup holds more than words.
The leaves are old,
the water is clear,
the fire patient
Between their consummation
a further union awaits.
A deeper communion unfolds --
not forced, not named,
but known.
Here, at the still point of tea,
all things rise and fall,
and nothing is lost.
We -- after much searching --
are now found.
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