Least Read Poems About Tea

I don't know if I'm moving towards Death or Death is moving towards me.
But I can feel the quickening.
Soon our paths will cross and at the point of intersection.
I will be gone.
And Death will move on.

Both our jobs will be done.

So

Next time you pour you morning tea, listen to the beautiful sound the hot water makes as it flows into the cup.
That's life right there in that moment.