In the gentle steam that rises, a story softly whispers,
Of distant lands and spices, where ancient tales do linger.
A cup of chai, a bridge to times, where heart and soul entwine,
In every sip, a world unfolds, in flavors so divine.
The cardamom and cinnamon, a dance of warmth and grace,
With gingerâs fiery passion, they find a sweet embrace.
A symphony of essence, brewed with care and love,
A testament to moments, as pure as stars above.
The clinking of the teapot, the pouring of the brew,
A ritual of solace, in mornings fresh and new.
In cups of clay or porcelain, the magic does reside,
A humble drink, yet mighty, in hearts it does abide.
So as you hold your chai, and take a gentle sip,
Remember all the hands that brought this to your lip.
A tapestry of culture, in every drop you find,
The warm embrace of chai, a solace to the mind.