Grandmother's Song

This is a piece that was previously published in Humanity Magazine, check out the Be the Hum here, designed and published by the amazingly talented Kailey Sullivan. 

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I've never heard my grandmother sing
If I'm honest I'm not sure if she plays any instruments
And I don't know if she paints, writes poetry, or dreams in color. 

But what I do know, 
Is that stitched throughout the fabric of the bread she bakes- 
There is a song. 

When I was a child I used to sit and listen to her sing this song;
Faithfully kneading out the imperfections in the dough. 
This song of hers  seem to have far more rest notes than before. 

There will come a day, 
When the quiet humming of her hands at work will cease,
When the dough rising on the counter isn't there. 

There will come a day when this song of hers must end. 
But when that day comes, I will simply remember: 

Being seven, 
Sitting in her kitchen, 
Smelling sourdough baking, 
Waiting for her symphony to finish, 
And her teaching me how to spell "diagnosis" 

I will remember my grandmother's song. 
With all of its silent love and patience, 
I will remember my andmother's song.