From coffee to tea a la Poet Laura’s traveling muse

For most of my adult life, I have considered myself to be a coffee-drinker. I remember in college taking my energy boosts with 64-ounce Mountain Dew Big Gulps, and some time after graduation, most likely during grad school, shifted to coffee as my primary caffeine source. I’m not sure when my foray into tea-drinking actually began, but I know it became more intentional when I started hanging around here at Tweetspeak, making poetry mischief. I’ve met some of my very favorite tea lovers here! I’ve made introductions, dipped my spoon (of honey) in the steep, and set off to adventure. I have routinely been an early morning coffee drinker forever, and I don’t know if I’ll ever switch out my first cup of dark brew (although I don’t discount anything), but part of my duties as the current Poet Laura is to “drink tea and write tea poems.” So for this month, I’ve decided to embrace where tea can lead me.

A few years ago, I received a glass teapot with a ceramic warming base as a birthday gift. The lid and base are decorated in a cherry blossom design, so lovely I display it on a shelf instead of storing it in a cabinet. While the pot will accommodate any looseleaf tea, it’s perfect to brew flowering tea, which is a tightly wrapped ball of green tea around a colorful bloom in the center. The canister I purchased from TeaBloom introduces the tea ball with such alluring names: Shooting Star, Jasmine Lover, Fairy Lily and Enchanting Beauty.

Such simple exquisitry. Early one Saturday, I take my cues from the tea and awaken slowly, unfurl dream remnants and shadows of muscle aches. Gather what’s needed—just the essentials. Strike a wooden matchstick against its box, listen to the crackle and watch a spark, in chaos, settle into a little flame. Touch flame to wick; the tea light keeps the glass pot warm. Smell dissipating sulfur from the match, await the gentle fragrance that rises with the first pour.

Lu Tong, tea master of the ancient Tang Dynasty, wrote The Seven Bowls of Tea. The poem has been widely translated, and from what I searched, with great variation.

The first cup moistens the throat;
The second shatters all feelings of solitude;
The third cup purifies the digestion,
re-opening the five thousand volumes I’ve studied
and bringing them to mind afresh;
The fourth induces perspiration,
evaporating all of life’s trials and tribulations;
With the fifth cup, the body sharpens, crisp;
The sixth cup is the first step on the road to enlightenment;
And the seventh cup sits steaming –
it needn’t be drunk, as one is lifted to the abode of the immortals.

—Lu Tong

My little pot yields about three cups of tea that I sip from a thick glass handleless cup. With five-thousand volumes reopened, I sit at the computer to write.

each leaf opens
like fingers
of an offering hand
the palm cups
a delicate bloom

—Michelle Rinaldi Ortega

***

Last weekend was the soft opening of a local coffee shop, which is something new to our area that’s flooded with franchise coffee places. I decided on a whim to drive down the hill and check it out. The ground bean aroma wafted into the parking lot with each fan of the front door opening; even with this welcome, I uncharacteristically bypassed the organic drip, the cold brew, even the cortado. Maybe it was all the extra tea musings this month? I ordered, instead, a London Fog, which is a blend of earl grey tea, house made oat milk and a lavender infusion. Wow! The creamy drink arrived at the table in an earthenware mug, and perfectly accompanied my journaling time. The flavors blended so gently, the textures of drink and vessel so seamlessly, I had to sit and absorb the experience of each sip as the customer chatter and barista tangoes rose around me. I’ll return, for sure.

London fog
lulls me to quiet
amid clamor
and chaos
lest I miss
the enchantment
of each sip

—Michelle Rinaldi Ortega

***

Around the same time I spontaneously decided to visit the new shop, Sadbook Collections started a 100 coffeeshop challenge, and L.L. Barkat wrote about the journey of a crazy dream moment in Woodstock. I didn’t know this was all happening until I read about it after my visit. But it seems great minds attract the same muses and a creative, traveling muse connected our wanderings and explorations.

Featured photo by Fernando Rojas, Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post and flowering tea photo by Michelle Ortega.

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Michelle Rinaldi Ortega

As a quiet child and angst-y teen, Michelle loved to read and write. When poetry found her again about fifteen years ago, the Tweetspeak community brought her multiple resources on journey, from content to courses to in-person meetups. She hosted Tweetspeak’s very first Mischief Cafe! A speech-language pathologist by day, Michelle's avocations include travel across the country and the globe, as well as digital and black and white film photography. Michelle is the author of Don't Ask Why from Seven Kitchens Press. Her microchapbook, Tissue Memory, is forthcoming from Porkbelly Press. You can find her work at www.michelleortegawrites.com and on IG @michellebelleslp.

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