a diversion

Grandma makes this plate, it’s called arroz con leche.
Grandma makes this plate, it’s called a flan.
I want you to have a taste of grandma’s special dish, 
they’re even better when they’re slightly chilled. 

Everyone loves to have grandma’s cooking, 
grandma’s recipes have traveled centuries. 
But they’re different, like us, showing signs of the times.
Plus amnesia, and sometimes ingredients get dropped.

Sometimes we opt for a different kind of milk, 
now Oat – but who would have thought, 
Grandma says it’s still quite good, 
and when I taste it I agree.

Momma’s garden has tomatoes, and they grow so ripe.
Momma’s garden has onions, and they’re fresh and round.
I want you to have a taste of momma’s Veggies,
they’re so much better than Whole Foods.

Everyone loves momma’s garden, 
which she plants with hands so trained,
that she doesn’t follow schedule or calendar, 
she just listens and observes.

Sometimes we do buy from the store, 
Cucumbers, berries, spinach, and greens, 
Momma says it’s okay, we mix it all
and enjoy it as one.

Dad is handy and can build, he made himself a deck.
Dad is crafty and can mount, a set of cabinets.
I want you to come and see, how Dad has made his home.
He built it with his hands, patience, tools, and vision.

Everyone loves Dad’s projects, 
they grab brews and admire, 
He never drew up plans,
it all was self-inspired.

So he put one and one 
and said that might go nice there.
He thought about what he might need, 
then he went and placed it there.

Me, I have these roots, and I can cook, can plant, 
and build stuff too. 
I want you to come and see, how all these things can make you free.
Just trust yourself, and listen close.

I sometimes failed to see what everyone else loved.
How momma’s plants would bloom,
grandma’s cooking brought joy,
and dad’s projects inspired awe.

But now I see, and I hope you see, 
we could all make something out of nothing.
with the gifts of our ancestors,
and thoughts filled with love.

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