In an earthen cup so warm,
This is more than tea’s soft charm,
In the very first sweet sip,
Feels like home upon your lips.
In the rising, gentle steam,
Lives a mother’s kitchen dream,
Every sip holds memories bright,
And a touch of childhood light.
By the roadside, evening chill,
Or sleepy mornings, calm and still,
This humble cup of chai somehow,
Draws your wandering heart back now.
As it touches waiting lips,
All the weariness slowly slips,
One more sip… then one again,
Smiles return without refrain.
In the earthy, fragrant clay,
Lives a warmth that wants to stay,
This is not just tea you hold,
But a bond—timeless, pure, and old.
~ Dawn
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