Grate ginger root grown in soil,
never warmer than a shadow,
into flakes no bigger
than a sparrow’s thoughts.
Place three pinches of said powder
in a small pouch crafted
from the wings of a single dragonfly
that found its last perch on a cattail
as thick as an ear of corn.
Now, place your pouch in a cup
of steamy water, adding three drops
of honey harvested on a humid day,
two pine needles, any will do,
as long as each are as green a youth,
and one acorn plucked
from an oak tree’s highest bough.
Let your tea sit for a moment,
measuring moments as you wish,
than slowly sip until sleep
warms you as well mid-morning sun.