She goes by the name of Ruby

I don’t remember too much about my grandmother

But her cookin’ run through my veins

As I light my candle flame and spark up my sage–

Hints of garlic notes in the air and jazz music playing

And although I don’t remember much about her–

She speaks through me fondly..

Through the slice of red tomato

And the cornbread dripping in maple syrup and honey

To the tap of my feet and the cinnamon symphony in the air

From my chocolate brown eyes

To the kinks in my hair–

She was always in that kitchen 

whipping ingredients into gold

Her love language plated

Spoken in the language of food

I wish I shared more memories with her–

For I was too young to truly appreciate 

And though grandmama wasn’t always a saint

Every day spent was a blessed day. 

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Welcome to Day 9 of my two-week poetry series. I will be going on a 2-week venture of writing exercises to get my creative spirit in flow, which allows me to dive deeper into how I write--yes--but also, will help me dive deeper into my wisdom and insights from the universe. So--follow along this journey if you desire, and comment below the insights you may receive from these pieces.