Like poetry written To meter and rhyme Infusing its substance With traces of time Or the angles and curves Of the ب that is drawn As bamboo unites With the leaf it is on Like the body Adamic With purpose and form Yet dead if devoid Of a breath that is warm Or the form of a prayer With pillars designed For peace when the heart Forces presence of mind Now think of a heart That is questing for what Is the Source of the senses That bring about thought That's fiercely probing Acute and intense So from it may grow An additional sense Then a visitor comes And he enters your cave To hold you, embrace you O sincere slave For a cosmic expansion Within and without By Word that is timeless And clear of doubt -- You’re missing the flavor If you cannot see: You honor the cup To honor the tea