Before Sun assents into the ether,
I stand with bare feet on a ligneous deck,
A vastness of green,
So that I can watch Mist rise above the hill tops
to greet me with a brisk embrace.  

Reddening the palms of my hands,
A warm clay cup, brimming with bitter, rich liquid,
Emits silky Steam which dances with Mist,
Floating up towards Moon, now fading into blue.  

And while Steam and Mist entangle their tails
I sit, watching them play as I breath in musky Smoke,
Absconding from a glass pipe.

Smoke blows away, much like sultry clouds,
And foils the waltz construed by warmth and cold.
Every sway and bend,
Coil and twist,
Delicately sweeping through the air;

Mist, Steam, and Smoke dance together
Becoming the sky and the air I breathe
Until the Sun arises, and it is time to go inside.