Tea Ceremony at the Barricades

Between tear gas and turmoil
We spread the bamboo mat
Warm the cast iron kettle
On burning manifestos

Riot shields reflect
The perfect circle of steam
Rising like revolution
Into dawn’s uncertainty

“Before we storm the palace
Let us share this bowl of peace
Watch how leaves unfurl
Like flags of momentary nations”

The police line shifts nervous
As we sift green powder
Into cups crafted from
Broken surveillance cameras

Someone writes a haiku
On the wall they’re guarding:
“Spring rain washes clean
Both protestor and police —
One sky holds us all”

The water must be
Neither too hot nor too cold
Like the heart in battle
Like the mind in chaos

We serve liberation
One cup at a time
Each sip a small rebellion
Against hurry and hate

The squad commander watches
As we whisk enlightenment:
“What kind of protest is this?”
“What kind of peace is that?”

Between volleys and violence
The ceremony continues:
Bow to your opponent
Honor the space between

Our weapons today:
Presence and patience
Mindful movements
Measured breaths

The kettle sings songs
Of steam and silence
While sirens harmonize
With bamboo whisks

We offer cups to strangers
To friends, to foes, to fear itself
Each bowl a tiny revolution
Each sip a border crossed

“The tea is getting cold”
Someone warns
“Perfect,” says the sage
“Now taste impermanence”

In the chaos of the street
We create an island of form
Each gesture a gateway
To impossible peace

Tear gas mingles with incense
Batons rest beside tea cakes
Someone laughs at the absurdity
Of finding stillness here

The ceremony ends
As all things must
But something has changed
In the tasting

For how can they maintain
The illusion of control
When we show them
The power of powerlessness?

Let them come with armies
We’ll serve tea to their fear
Let them build walls
We’ll pour peace through the cracks

This is how we fight:
With open hands and quiet hearts
Offering emptiness
To those who clutch at power

In the end
What prevails:
The force of arms
Or the sharing of warmth?

Watch resistance flower
One cup at a time
Until all barricades become
Altars to awakening