Grandma's Kitchen
In my grandmother's kitchen,
There are many wooden doors.
Every now and then I open the drawers
As I move utensils from this rack so open.
In my grandma's kitchen,
There is absolute abundance.
Sometimes as I dine, I fall into a trance,
While I feel gratitude for all that she's been.
In my granny's kitchen,
There are many people who come in and go.
Almost every day I wonder if they know,
Just how incredibly my granny always pitches in.
In my grandmother's kitchen,
There is always that someone cooking for me too.
As I wait patiently, I say with my heart so open,
"Thank you, granny. I love you."
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