A pot of tea is shared in old Cairo
By wise men who knew the old Pharaoh.
They set a fine table beside the road
The trinity of Jesus, Muhammad, and Moses.
Tired of witnessing the countless hordes
That turned holy books into swords.
Tired of death in their collective name
They sip their tea and bear the shame.
For the sake of love they have surrendered talk
Choosing chado and silent walks.
They call the faithful to do the same
And offer tea in love’s holy name.
Toasting they refill their cups
“To the holy one that fills us up.”
No defense of truth is needed
When for love’s sake they have all ceded.
—Becca Stevens