Sunday After Noon Jan 2024

[sengiv]

A warm cup of Canadian soy, so divine,
With New Zealand's dairy, rich as wine.
A sweet scent of Illinois' bloom,
Dances with China's craft, lighting the minds' room.

America's music, pure and true,
A melody that paints the skies with blue.
Pepper and turmeric from India's lands,
With sweet bread kneaded by my mother's hands.

With the world at my fingertips, I pause to muse,
What will I give? Which path shall I choose?
A whisper, soft as dawn, from my father dear,
"True joy the synonym of God, be it clear."