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WHEELED WITH THE STARS

Sunday, April 17, 2022


 
Postre is dessert in Spanish-Argentinian. Posterity are descendants in the nomenclature intended to pass on to thee. My late mother used to say that prosperity comes in round shape and I should never forget to put them on the dining table in anticipation of a jubilee. Golden coins of milk chocolate were, to the delight of a child, my favorite symbols of receiving those shiny treasures. The nesting pigeon outside the window at work, when I go for a break on the fifth floor to have a look, have two of those egg-symbols underneath her feather-belly and I feel she's feeling grand. Recently I had a layover in L.A.X. for seven hours coming back from a business trip, an old friend lives nearby and came to fetch me bearing gifts of homemade fudge filled with walnuts and cherries, they were so specially wrapped in Korean thimble canisters repurposed to render her creativity, of course to my delight, and presented them on a matrix styrofoam board with red holes like a game of buga-shadara

I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world, a line from Rilke I have since embodied after finding my voice in poetry, the earth a clock, on the other hand a compass on my heart. In the town of Makawao upcountry is a Japanese-run bakery selling hot cross buns today, and I love those rolls with hot black tea because of the raisins and liqueur candied orange peels in them. There's a dish I would like to make in my head to celebrate posterity, a Mom's recipe (a prosperity food) given to us children to give luck and good fortune in the years ahead when she might be no longer be around for us, it's a dish of meat balls and angel hair noodles and green squash soup, it was so comforting to eat it was delivering her love in winsome ways, in my mind now it is also bequeathing a promise. I have much to be grateful for in life, especially with a few true friends in my circle I have been celebrating with, be it tiny achievements or big, professionally and personally (even artistically), with them around me the world is warm and kind in the deep sense of belonging or giving, and of never to feel alone. It means the world to me to be treated with love as I would in default mode my nature to love begetting it growing up steeped in food of love. I thank them for their courage, evermore. Love to me is nothing short of courage. 

I wheeled with the stars, and my heart broke lose on the wind (Pable Neruda).     

   

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