By: Ruiquan Li

The aroma pervaded throughout the room,
like the distinct smell of my Mind Palace.

I can still see some the settings,
the lighter, the fire, and close eyes.

Where Buddha was worshipped with faith,
the old temples, like steaming pots, overflowed with smoke.

The family houses were my playgrounds,
full of laughters and ashes.

It was the reminder that maybe someone was in the house.
an indicator of security for me.
It was the tradition practiced by my family,
an usual part of our society.
It was the part of my childhood in China,
an element elegantly embedded in my memory.