Grandmother's Hearth

The hearth is warmer when

Grandmother tells the stories of her childhood,

when her brother fell while climbing a tree

and she cured him with the knowledge of her past lives

when she was a witch that knew all about medicinal plants.

The taste of her hot chocolate has no match.

Sugar, cocoa, and milk mixed together with the strength of a storm,

like the one she summoned over the peak of an ancient mountain

to obliterate the enemy armies whose spears, chains, and cages

would never be known by the children of her people.

The family gathers about with mugs between their hands,

the sweet potion’s magic is on the work, and they forget for a moment

about toil, time, sorrow, and other monsters

while their hearts, bursting with joy, hum melodies

about home, dreams and love.