poem: smoked tortillas and revueltos

written for a contest about having breakfast with OT

Breakfast should be profound, he said

     emphasizing with gestures that embraced me,

 and the whole of the room, a laugh rumbling;

              but you my friend, knew that already.

 

and then she brought the tortillas

       in a small woven basket, hand embroidered,

  emanating the scent of wood smoke, and I asked him,

well, what does this mean, then, us two here?

 

He paused to savor the aromas of chili and fire

  Take these revueltos, he said at last, motioning to his plate 

     and think about how you got here TODAY;

and how they came to you, here, with me, in this place, this day.

          

and I was struck by a coincidence so strong

    that I almost fell from the memory of all things unsaid

          Destiny, I whispered

is but the minding of small details of the journey.

 

[The scenery passed by, unhurried, as it always does here]

 

and he handed me a tortilla from his plate,

    laden with rich offerings- eggs and piquins

           tomato and smoked maize, and responded:

why else did you come here, but to find me today, 

      so I could feed you tortillas from my plate?

 

 

         

 

 

Author's Note

I have no idea who the hell "OT" is nor why I'd want to have breakfast with him. I hear he is a deep thinker or something. So I imagined myself trudging down the street to some gringo cafe and running into an ex-pat who, for once, wasn't some cynical washed up bar-hopping has-been and actually had something interesting to say. Actually, I guess I imagined running into my late friend Dan- the perosn I always think of when I imagine having profound conversation. He had a big enough personality to fit this country, I think. I never got the chance to talk to him about it.

Probably a little too long long for the contest but I like where it went. Miss you, Dan. You haven't stopped by for coffee in a while. No offense to OT... take the comparison as a compliment.

Reviews

[Through the Gateway]

I loved this! The sense of eternity in a single bite of a meal.

The words of this are very eloquent, Marie, and the imagery is profound. I was mentioning to Clockwork last night how every one of your poems makes me examine myself, my life. This is no different. I read through this wondering: when was the last time I ate a meal with such attention? Not just the consuming of comestibles, but an actual focus of the food, conversation, and single moment in time?

The Japanese have a ritual that seems on the surface like simply taking tea. What few people understand is...that is EXACTLY what it is, but with the recognition that that moment it time is unique, special, fleeting.

This was much more profound than many may see. I hope they take THEIR time to focus as they read this, understanding that this moment only happens once.

Brilliant, as always.

[Larry Dyson]

Actually it is wonderful..it illustrates the interwoven complexities of Karmic confluence... Dharmic ties to a world moving at a pace where each action is a planetary happen-stance...I loved it...the issues of the world can be summed up and conjectured ....over a plate of ...smoked tortillas....

[The Cougar's Den]

Terrific little story over the best meal of the day. Good write!

[Emily B]

from beginning to end, it is perfect

and I imagine our friend Ostensible Truth will smile at the wisdom you've filled the lines with