The circle drawn around the kitchen table, a place where stories bloom and memories bloom. The smell of baking, a familiar scent, that speaks of care, of nurture, and of home. A knowing glance that crosses crowded rooms, a silent language understood by few. The shared history, a whispered, tender tune, that plays within the chambers of the heart. We are the echoes of the ones before, and in our children, futures take their shape. A legacy of kindness, passed along, a living river, flowing ever on.
poem
The circle drawn around the kitchen…
1 min read
The circle drawn around the kitchen table, — a place where stories bloom and memories bloom.
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