beware—the storm brews in a cup of tea let your sharpest words fall as drizzle no mortal withstands the cunning tempest the sea takes the fool who scorns the wiser the sage’s mind is forged in wisdom the heart, a cushion of gold; the body, a harbor cross the line, though hidden from all eyes the storm crowns the master unseen by the blind … for storms reveal the truth that silence ‘already knew’
Scribbles from occasional daydreamings