Tea

Gas stove clicks twice  
Then lights from ignition
Pouring water, eyes closed,
But nope she’s not wishin
She’s on a mission
Shaking secrets from the loose leaves
That she scooped from a book sleeve  
Into a cup
that will soon hold the universe
Pour the water, let it brew
Stir, sip, have a looksie
The muse hits
Like removal of a scab or a bandage
Love flows to the place where
Hues and curves meet canvas
Hand and Eye paying tithes
That the constellations demand,
As the beauty of her mind
they often sought to borrow
The tea leaves bring forth designs
From behind the eyes...
Maybe she’ll show us tomorrow