Tea leaves and leaving

When you are dazed
in your shadows of jasmine;

how can you tell the tea leaves
to settle to telltales?

how can you trust tea leaves
to know about parting.

That leaf you are asking
was once carefully hand picked

by a peasant woman
with wells in her eyes,

a woman shawled in the morning –
mist mourning her daughter.

That leaf that she rolled
between her thorn-pricked

fingers and sunset,
dazed in a Darjeeling evening,

How could that leaf you are asking
know about you or his leaving?

The Cup – Adolf de Meyer (1912)

Linked up late to Kerry’s picture prompt at toads. I will link up to Tuesday platform as well.
—-
May 7, 2018

21 responses to “Tea leaves and leaving

  1. LOVE this, Björn! Not only did you conjure some wonderful imagery here, but you’ve also raised an age-old question. How *can* the the leaves tell us anything?

  2. Brilliant! The tea leaves may not know the story of who is leaving – but they do tell the story of the vast disparity in the lives of the ‘have’s’ and the ‘havenot’s’. You have painted the scene that back lights this piece, beautifully, Björn.

  3. I can wonder too, how do the tea leaves get to
    know answers to all our questions. Faking it?

  4. how can you trust tea leaves
    to know about parting…. beautiful Bjorn.. when you see the mist roll in over the gorgeous hills of Darjeeling, you will believe anything though..a fabulous town.

  5. My goodness this is sooo beautiful .. you had me at the title itself!💜 Love “how can you tell the tea leaves
    to settle to telltales? how can you trust tea leaves to know about parting.”💜

  6. “hand picked
    by a peasant woman
    with wells in her eyes”

    “between her thorn-pricked
    fingers and sunset”

    So gorgeous.

  7. This is superb, Bjorn. I love your description of the tea picker – it truly transported me, and made your question all the more relevant.

  8. How can the leaves truly know? The tea picker wrapped in the morning mist mourning her daughter…you have made the tea picker real and human. From a peasant to a woman of privilege to the southeast leaves. Beautifully painted.

  9. That leaf that she rolled
    between her thorn-pricked

    fingers and sunset,
    dazed in a Darjeeling evening,…..beautiful…….mystery, secrets and sadness beautifully woven together…!

  10. ‘That leaf you are asking
    was once carefully hand picked

    by a peasant woman
    with wells in her eyes,

    a woman shawled in the morning –
    mist mourning her daughter’
    .
    Beautiful, Bjorn!

  11. Now I want to know everything about the harvester, how she feels when she’s doing the work, whether or not she ever wonders about the people who will sip tranquility through her labor… Love the story within the story.

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