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# A Poem to Commemorate the Completion of Book 1 – On Theory, Meta Theory, and Culture
- URL: https://www.cultofquality.com/a-poem-to-commemorate-the-completion-of-book-1-on-theory-meta-theory-and-culture/
- Published: 2021-12-16T05:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2023-01-03T22:06:23.000Z
- Author: Jason Cohen
- Tags: Tea Technique, Poetry

The Editorial team and I have just published the [final installment](https://www.teatechnique.org/the-future-of-tea-ceremony-redux/?ref=cultofquality.com) of our first book in the series *An Introduction to the Art and Science of Chinese Tea Ceremony.*

Please do check it out on <www.teatechnique.org>!

To commemorate the publication of the first book, I’ve written a poem for the last chapter, which is cross posted here:

>  
> Brewing alone, all the teas I enjoy,  
>  
> Only my own preferences to consider, not a god or guest to entertain;  
>  
> Paused on the path of progress, watching small groups stumble along,  
>  
> The white or soiled sails of piloted ships carry many against the river current;  
>  
> Kettle cool, a welcoming caravan approaches, together now down the path,  
>  
> Perhaps towards the shipyard in the distance? The once welcoming now focused group grows,  
>  
> determined to construct a ship of our own, a vision of white sails alight on the wind,  
>  
> How many can such a ship carry? Passion ignited is a siren song, a fleet of masts follow in close wake,  
>  
> Our ship but one of many, countless sailing across time, others shipwrecked on the banks of the river,  
>  
> Former sailors smiling as they brew alone, just a stare while we sail on and past,  
>  
> Time rips members from our grasp, recruitment bolsters our numbers for now;  
>  
> The time we have is not time enough, our members disembark and scatter like pollen on the wind,  
>  
> Now near the end, I brew alone, all the teas I enjoy,  
>  
> Different now with different wares, a new location more beautiful than before,  
>  
> Years to arrive and lonely in all directions, only a few small groups of travelers visible on the steep trails below,  
>  
> Those above, further up the mountain, invisible, hidden in their hermitages or shrouded in the mist that hides the way;  
>  
> Will I ever make it to the summit? The thought drifts away as I sip my tea alone,  
>  
> The muffled voices of a small group approaching, tempted to join, yet kettle hot I let them pass,  
>  
> Maybe the next one? Maybe the next one….   
>  
> \- Jason Cohen, Dec 16th 2021

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