El Quesedilla de piedras....

Ten times must thou reconcile again with thyself; for overcoming is bitterness, and badly sleep the unreconciled. - Nietzsche

An empty stomach grumbling about a heavy heart does not make for a good evening or a good night's sleep -That is a conflict indeed; and one raging within the confines of oneself - a lonely uphill battle that cannot be won, that cannot be lost. I march towards victory and loss, armored with courage, shamed with remorse. Lead me to a rock greater than I - the Bible doth expound. My prayer and my salvation are one... my soul, lost in translation, understands only that it is yet just a bruised, hungry fragment searching for light within the dark recesses of thought and desire.

From this empty evening emerged but a shadow of a stony silent night. I remained hungry for life, for a voice.... stoically patient...in fear that movement would disturb the equilibrium of inertia.

And a voice comes knocking! Smiling, angelic in hope and reward. Suddenly the grumbling and groaning subside into elegant coordinated movements, that of fingers leading the knife..arms grabbing out and holding the pan for support and direction, swirling in olive oil to set back in movement the one who appeared to have never paused. 

The faux chicken is roasted on cast iron then chopped. The fridge ransacked for onions, tomatoes, green peppers, red peppers, to be melded into a harmonious one. Kale and Broccolini, already soul-mates, find friends in leek and garlic fragrant in butter. We are finding love in togetherness and togetherness in love. It's a party!

When she walked in I told her my fridge was empty; It was really rather the opposite, bursting at the seams with unnecessary, expired, rotting remnants of yesterday... The very yesterday that had left me empty, forlorn and not anticipating any joy for I had not forgotten that after hope flirts, reality commits.

At first glance we thought we may be able to scrape up a tortilla with some cheese.. call it some sort of a poor woman's quesedilla.... but then as the stone soup brewed, we found we had much more within to offer it; that hope had died and reincarnated into strength.... yesterdays and tomorrows collapsed into this one moment of peace with my friend cooking supper and bunny chewing on leftover kale.

On a full stomach and a purged heart, I embrace you - sleep.