Read Poem: TACOS FOR THE SOUL, by Tessie Herrasti

I carry with me

A package of tortillas

Made from the hands of my aunt

Those traditional loving

Flat pieces of flour

Which cover my soul

With the most delicious scent

I put on top of it

My sorrow of loss

My mother’s kisses before

Going to school

And the last hug I gave her

On her departing sleep

I can’t forget the guacamole

Inside what will be

my most delicious taco

And the idea

That being Mexican

Is eating tacos

Because there is no other way

Either taco, mariachi, sombrero

Poncho, margarita, and Cancun

These elements define me

They flavor my tortilla

With the ideas from outside

But what Mexico really means to me

Is the smell of the wet soil

In a misty morning in Cuetzálan

Walking in the paving stones without even seeing my legs

The eyes of the jaguar in the jungle

Yellow as the dawn in Oaxaca.

Canela and piloncillo

In my morning coffee

What it truly means to hold

Someone for more than five minutes

The essence and spice of hearing te amo

And the candles

That light up our hearts

Inside the cemetery

Where we left our hearts

Where we lost our souls

Where we believe still

That we will re-duplicate

That embrace

I take a bite of my tortilla

And see her eyes

I hear her voice

And the sound is so sweet

Like honey dripping

Down my spine

How I miss you my land

How I miss you my womb

And the butterflies

Who follow my walks of the world

Hand in hand

With cacao and water.

By Tessie Herrasti