This is the quiet hour
There may be many
The hour of half light
The hour of half thought
That beauty resides
In the view through the trees bare branches
That beauty decides
In the peaceful quiet of inactivity
Such that it is the tea, the chair
Which provides the welcome
Which says, please sit down
Be aware of your breath
Be aware of how your mind travels
In small steps, in giant leaps
Be mindful of the floorboards creaking
Of another life making moves
This is the beginning of a second hour
With the joy of a shared pot of tea
As one prepares oneself
For the pleasures of bathing
