The Tortilla Survival Protocol

from Mother Poems and A Crack in Time by Shambhavi Sarasvati at Kindred 108. We're all kindred here.

I didn’t see it coming
but in the midst of all this
I kissed a fresh tortilla
and whispered close
into its fragrant skin
“Thank you for still being
simple and sweet.”

I know that confusion and rage
helplessness
and desperation
don’t go away until
their end times
naturally arrive.
But by filling
our mouths
with any name of God
we give these
a smaller place
and don’t feel completely
inadequate and fucked.
Om namah shivaya

Likewise
offering small
services to others daily is
a medicine
that reaches deep into our
tissues with messages
of who we are
and who we will be
when the smoke
scatters and the sky is
easier to see.

If we keep kissing tortillas
roll mantras in our mouths
and offer ourselves 
to each other as gifts
we can survive any confusions,
smoke, and fires
not necessarily intact
but who asked for that anyway?

from Mother Poems and A Crack in Time by Shambhavi Sarasvati

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