a divine dinner tune

when we gathered around the kitchen table,

holding hands as my mother said grace,

the clatter of plates rang like beating drums

and dumplings cracked like fireworks

on the frying pan. our voices were 

piano keys—every conversation

a melodic tune in my ears.

blinded by rising steam 

and golden, glimmering sunlight

peeking through the windows, all i sensed

was laughter. chuckles were violin strings

as we sang the same song. 

i no longer feared forever, 

rather, the end.

i yearned for time to slow 

as the voices of my siblings rang 

like church bells through my ears. 

i muttered a “thank you” to

whoever watched over us, 

this joy could be the work of no less 

than divine powers.