Cumin spices on the bridge,
Between the dish's core,
Yellow sacred earthy tones,
Aroma I adore,

Purifying spicy grind,
That makes the recipe,
Delighting tastebuds sing within,
The cumin symphony,

Standing tall the trumpet blows,
It's final call of day,
And in one breath the player shows,
It's will, will not decay,

For sovereign is the east and west,
The north and south as well,
The Northern star will show the way,
Beyond the fragrant smell,

For dreams of past are over now,
And cumin is a clue,
The inner core is sovereign,
When it's sovereign within you.