Mother’s Cooking

Steam rises gently,

Her hands dance with spice and love, 

Home tastes warm and safe.

One bite of the rich

And flavorful cinnamon, 

Childhood fills my chest .

Crackling oil sings, 

Smell of the onion tearing.

Home is in the air. 

Mother’s apron lost.

Sound of pots clanging together. 

The fires dimmed light.