a day in the life of piano monkey

Waters of March A stick, a stone, It's the end of the road, It's the rest of a stump, It's a little alone It's a sliver of glass,It is life, it's the sun, It is night, it is death, It's a trap, it's a gun The oak when it blooms, A fox in the brush, A knot in the wood, The song of a thrush The wood of the wind, A cliff, a fall, A scratch, a lump, It is nothing at all It's the wind blowing free,It's the end of the slope, It's a beam, it's a void,It's a hunch, it's a hope And the river bank talks of the waters of March, It's the end of the strain, The joy in your heart The foot, the ground,The flesh and the bone, The beat of the road,A slingshot's stone A fish, a flash, A silvery glow, A fight, a bet, The range of a bow The bed of the well, The end of the line, The dismay in the face, It's a loss, it's a find A spear, a spike, A point, a nail, A drip, a drop, The end of the tale A truckload of bricks in the soft morning ...

as the steam rises from my pot,i look at the small, tiny discoloured leaves, uncurling and relaxing. the leaves stretch out from a long slumber- shreds of aspalathus linearis, commonly known as rooibos or red bush tea, grew in a small region in south africa, in cederberg region of the western cape province. rooibos tea is made from dried rooibos plant, from the needle-like leaves, so technically it is not a tea, but a tisane, a herbal infusion. from the initial planting, it takes about 18 months for the bush to mature for first harvest. each spring, little yellow flowers will come up and transform into a simple legume with single seed inside. then when it's ready, POP, goes the seed. tiny as they are, the bush tenders used to go to the anthills to collect the seeds. imagine the surprise from the ants: you are robbing us, we found those seeds and brought them home- well, nearly! thieves! literally taking it from our jaws! well, the seeds are collected little more ethically now, ...