Lyric

I walk at dawn

Where mists weave their silver nets

Where grass grows high

And dew glistens on its tips

I’ll gather summer’s warmth in my hands

To carry its light through the cold lands!

I brew Ivan tea

A cup filled to the brim!

For sorrow or for pain

This fragrant tea heals within!

I gather lilac flowers

In the quiet of familiar fields

Within them shine the sun and dew

And morning’s breath the earth yields

I fold the leaves and petals

Dry them softly in the breeze

Their scent flows thick and rich —

My golden tea will please!

I brew Ivan tea

A cup filled to the brim!

For sorrow or for pain

This fragrant tea heals within!

Praise to the meadow herbs

Gifts from the earth below!

Praise to the sun and rain

I’ll brew a cup of gentle glow

Praise to the power of the soil

Which comes alive within each leaf…

I brew Ivan tea

A cup filled to the brim!

For sorrow or for pain

This fragrant tea heals within!