Motherland
What does embodiment mean? A new Tea Poem that explores just that.
It’s hard to believe it’s been just over a year since A Tea Stronger Than Death, a collection of poems written under Tea’s guidance, entered the world. Tea, in her original form, is far more than just a beverage; the plant is a keeper of wisdom, a healing agent, a spiritual companion, and a living cultural practice. I’m currently working on MOTHER TONGUES a micro edition offering that goes beyond offering a selection of Camellia sinensis Teas from my homelands in Taiwan and China, alongside tisanes made from botanicals cultivated in my garden and responsibly foraged or otherwise sourced. My work with Tea, including the Magick of Tea gatherings, aims to honour Tea's past, engage with its present, and help shape a future steeped in taste literacy, cultural reverence, magical traditions, and re-animacy.
My latest poem, a companion to Tea, is shared below.
Motherland
Because I was an egg in my mother’s ovary,
And she was an egg in her mother.
It means like a seed inside a seed inside a motherland,
That when the moon bleeds,
There is nothing figurative about my ancestors flowing through me.It means when I’m angry—pleadingly angry—and hold a burning, aching vision for the world, that my mama bear rage and grieving tears are also the same that my Puo Puo may have shed, in secret, when she was still in our motherland.
They say that embodiment is beautiful. I say it mostly feels overwhelming, how can it not when all the voices and sensations are present. They say embodiment likes to wear long dresses or goth nails. I say it wears unremarkable pants with pockets filled with random rocks and plant clippings, dirt to the cuticles. They say embodiment is artful and articulate. I say that it speaks with resplendent spluttering, words so desperate to stay alive that they jostle impatiently, each waiting to push its way out through the double doors of my lips, from the depths of their motherland. Maybe this is why my spells are best cast in mother tongues, and why Tea, too, must always be present. From where do my words and blood flow, if not from the Motherland?
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Following the spirits,