The baton has given the signal

Happy Poetry Friday! I don't often have my act together enough to talk about holidays in a timely way. And today is no exception. I wanted to show you how to make poetry-themed tea bags because I thought they might be a pretty Mother's Day gift, but I don't have any coffee filters to make a sample one. Here's what they look like (minus the theoretical poetry I was going to have):

I didn't make these!
This image is from the instructions page.

Moving on to a couple of poems, plus a reminder that this is your last chance to sign up for the Summer Poetry Swap.

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“lands” from Salt
by Nayyirah Waheed

My mother was
my first country,
The first place I
ever lived.

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excerpt of To Think of Time from Leaves of Grass
by Walt Whitman

It is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and father,
it is to identify you,

It is not that you should be undecided, but that you should be decided,
Something long preparing and formless is arrived and form'd in you,
You are henceforth secure, whatever comes or goes.

The threads that were spun are gather'd, the weft crosses the warp,
the pattern is systematic.

The preparations have every one been justified,
The orchestra have sufficiently tuned their instruments, the baton
has given the signal.

The guest that was coming, he waited long, he is now housed,
He is one of those who are beautiful and happy, he is one of those
that to look upon and be with is enough.

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The Poetry Friday round-up is at Elizabeth Steinglass's blog. Thanks, Liz!