At times the only warmth, colour
Touch, contact, fragrance
Comes from a steaming
Cup of tea.
...
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World class and so very profound. We are only clay in the warm Hands of the eternal Potter. Praise for your wonderful insight. Fondest regards, Sandra
this is a wonderful poem mamta ma'm.....it's so amazing that you can create poetry from the things that might not inspire others to write... You are a wonderful poet...10+
Beautiful poem, Mamta. Wheel is revolving and soul of the potter's artistry peeping through your thoughts. Regards Naseer
Mamtaji, I too like tea or coffee in a cup rather than in a steel tumbler. It gives a different taste and aroma. And your poem takes us deep and deeper into a kind of sentiment we all attatched to the clay cups. Very tasty poem indeed.
THE FLAVOUR, TASTE AND FRAGRANCE OF A QUALITY TEA, I DO AGREE, TRANSPORT ONE TO A WORLD BEYOND, - WHERE THE ETERNAL POTTER FOREVER SHAPES, VESSELS OF VARYING SIZES AND SHAPES, AND HE FINALLY BREATHES IN THAT PRECIOUS SOUL! FOR ONE DAY HE WILL BREAK THIS MOULD, TO SHAPE AND RE-CREATE ONCE MORE! AS THE WHEEL OF LIFE KEEPS TURNING ON! 10! -Raj.
being an inter being could be your cup of tea yet how many are unaware of this reality its takes a heart and mind to see beyond sight, primarily.... good write mamta.........
wonderful lyric poem, thank you for sharing..............10++++++
and the tea is bit salty...... mud being mixed with tears and sweat..............
last line holds the essence of it all... how many times do we feel connected to things we had never seen... only a person with pure heart can do so.. a lovely write with a deep meaning..
.... He was part of me......; mamta, to me, that is the way one transcends higher and higher to the Eternal Truth, through compassion. This poem expresses the subtle layers of your mind.
Lovely thoughts expressed in this poem...how many of us think of the potter who created the cup or the bowl from which we sip a welcome drink....10
A class apart. I loved the way you have opened this poem and then blended the opening with the last stanza to bestow this poem with a deep sense of inter-being as you call it.