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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/e4f8ffb04dea0e799de6dd195c3c4e6b.mp3
点击复制Hands set down the harvest
stories rise like bread;
the chairs become a circle
where strangers meet and wed
A grandmother spells mercy
with gravy sage and thyme;
a prayer without its language
still understands its time
We pass the bowl of kindness
we season it with care;
each mouthful tastes of places
we thought we’d lost somewhere
When candles lean toward quiet
we count the love we own—
how giving makes us larger
how gratitude is home