Food

Food

Did you have a birthday cake, squeals Alice

Clapping her hands in glee

When I was very small I answer

But not so much when I was older

And needed someone to celebrate me

Perhaps that is why we take tea every day

A silent, revolutionary celebration

I am (still) here – that feels enough

On some days we light candles

On others we just let the vanilla icing melt on our tongue

Soothing and sweet – like summer

Perhaps, if I had known

I would have made a wish back then

When I blew my candles out

Now I need to find some magic buried deep inside

Blow out a candle and make my own wishes and luck

They will be as sweet as cherries and delicious as frosting

We sit and consider things for a moment

Perhaps every cup of tea, every slither of food eaten

Is a tiny celebration in itself

I have to feed my body and mind

In order to satiate my hunger to wish and live again.