The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Tea

I did not recognize
you there resting against the clay,
inviting me to cup your warmth
and feel your vibrations.

In my arrogance, I thought to drink,
but you, my love, took me in,
struck my cord, so I may feel the 
moment of our morphosis.

You were youth-plucked,
left to exhale in the dayshine,
and carried upon the bamboo
To the pyre of immortality.

Like two virgins, we shed ourselves,
to join in the waters,
fusing pith and clay,
giving way to dissolution.

Heat fades away,
from the golden commingling,
as the gong's dong 
echoes afar

Ekstasis dims into silence
A resonant joy bursts
Convulses like newborn muscle
as vibration struggles to stay.

Eyes awaken, mind startles,
to find ground and reburden,
as my inhale rushs in, 
quenching a forgotten need.

And as lists reboot on my
monitor mind, scrolling coldly by,
I feel my smile pull me back,
to the still resounding
remembrance of your sweet leaf.
■





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