The Tea House

Once there was a tea house snuggled deep within a city called Seoul. It was a charming place filled with exotic treasures, healing herbs and the most splendid, most delicate and most delightful array of birds. A colony of birds to be exact.

Well now, to be absolutely accurate, these birds weren't simply delightful nor simply splendid nor simply delicate and beautiful, these birds were extraordinary in the fact that they too, but much more than the tea leaves, had healing powers. Some could bring happiness to the hearts of all the people in the shop with a just a slight shiver of their feathers. Others could cure colds and such illnesses with their sing-song chirp. And yet others, the very, very, very special few could heal all wounds with the giving of their feathers.

To be logical, as most people are, the birds hide their extraordinariness, and have been for ten thousand years. This way they do not draw too much publicity, and neither are they over worked. Birds get tired too you know.

Because they have been around so long they have developed a specific code amongst themselves so as to not "blow their cover", as they say. Course, I don't know the code. I'm a people. They would never tell me. But I'd guess it'd be something along the lines of 1) no talking to people, 2) no showing off before peoples, and 3) keep your feet clean and be sure to land your droppings on the tree only!

Just a guess.

Anyways, among these enchanted birds lays a discovery like no other. A find that Indiana Jones and Lara Croft would kill, butcher and enslave for. The find of, well do you know? Hint: the same birds have lived as a colony all around the world for the past ten thousand years.

They have what the Christians called the aqua de vitae, what Herodotus mentioned briefly in his histories, and what Alexander the Great supposedly journeyed to the Land of Darkness for, the Fountain of Youth.

From A to Z, to all the in between. The birds chirped all the day to bring well-being.

The trees, the wood, the mountains and springs; the small candle light's hue shone on all happy things.

Decide to be in or out they say.

I'll decide what I decide darn it.

Hm, as always I'll stay.

Far and deep into the hollowed out room,

a secret kept quiet,

awaiting just the right tune.

For how many years have people thought it the tea?!

The tea, the tea. What more could there be?

Birds do not heal. I doubt birds can feel!

Look past the tea to the treasures below. Where have the been? I'd like to know.

Keep on your guard! The black tipped bird said.

You bite that bon-bon, I might raise you from dead!

The morning sun shone on the writing wall.

It said here is where I start.

I'll grant all your wishes if you give me a part.

Out the window there's death, in there's life.

The bird stared in confusion at his cousin in flight.

It's the tea! It's the tea! I say. Nothing much more.

If birds can be healers, then I am a door!