I was at my desk late last night as our Russian cleaning crew made its rounds. They are very nice people and one of the women heard me coughing and suggested a remedy. Onion tea. "Like onion soup?" I asked. "No, no put onion in boiling water for a few minutes and then add lemon and honey."
Then she started down the hall and came back to add, "Use red onion."
I guess I should have known that.
Maybe I'm a closet Czarist because I was thinking white onion.
finest loose-leaf tea
holds flavors of place and time
within its buds,
like next season’s fruits
asleep in flowers
as yet unopened
in winter’s chill.
draw forth their
somewheres and their
sometimes
in the infusion of hot water
and skillfully dried leaves
that is the tea we share.
we are carried to the
edge of a realm
as cold and temperamental as
Shiva,
to the foothills of the Himalayas
and the tea estates of
Darjeeling.
fragrant steam and
delicate flavor
wreath our heart-thoughts,
bond porcelain moods,
revive fugitive memories,
and transform longing to
gratitude,
as you wait, and I
watch,
sharing tea.
© Sealanehill 2017
for @soulreserve