These leaves are words, they exist on their own
Whether we think them, or even know them
They’re here in existence since they’ve been sown
They speak all languages, gleaming like gems
This water is space, a medium, a page
It etches, engraves, cannot be undone
A carrier of peace, madness or rage
It can trickle, twirl, or heavily run
This tea is a message fused forever
Never repeated, but always recalled
A labor of love, a soul endeavor
An embrace sought, or a much needed scald
You are the author yet also the guest
You enable whats there to pierce you through
You drink and graft this message to your chest
And when you share it, the world can be blessed
-Danae Garriga
Camellia's Treaty 