Holy cow, I just read this poem and was knocked over ...
"Green Tea" by Dale Ritterbusch
There is this tea
I have sometimes,
Pan Long Ying Hao,
so tightly curled
it looks like tiny roots
gnarled, a greenish-gray.
When it steeps, it opens
the way you woke this morning,
stretching, your hands behind
your head, back arched,
toes pointing, a smile steeped
in ceremony, a celebration,
the reaching of your arms.
Now that's what some tea masters mean when they rinse the first steep and call it "waking up the tea"!
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