The Quiet Feast

In the kitchen, the morning light pours like gold,

I crack an egg open, letting stories unfold.

Butter melts slowly, pooling with grace,

as time tarries sweetly in this sacred space.

Toast pops up crisp, a warm golden slice,

a moment of stillness, a delicate vice.

I savor the warmth, this mundane little treat,

a simple indulgence, the day’s first heartbeat.

As I plate the colors—so humble, so bright,

I pause in the silence, embrace the soft light.

With each bite I gather, a moment to steal,

the day stretches wide, and the heart starts to heal.