Posted on: Sunday, February 20, 2005

POETRY
Growing With Rice

Marvelee Soon Tahauri

I grew up with rice.
In my mother's arms
the first solid food, offered with hope
in my frail infancy,
each swallow an affirmation
of life

I grew up with rice.
Childhood games in the back yard
bean-bag tag, minus the beans
Just rice again, tossed in play
hitting the target
releasing peals of laughter

I grew up with rice.
The sober responsibility of
counting the cups
swirling the white whirlpool
till the liquid ran clear,
my own small fingers measuring
a new level of trust

I grew up with rice.
No rain of rice at my wedding,
but huge pans of steaming white,
billowing love for the crowd
gathered to partake of the feast
Love ingrained, family and friends

I grew up with rice.
Learning to budget, stretching resources
seven children, seven bowls
stew and rice, chili and rice
soup and rice, fried rice, turkey jook ...
We are content, warm and happy

I grew up with rice.
Project Graduation, my last child:
"Please donate 25 musubi for post-grad snacks"
Mothers like me gladly pitch in
Layered years of sticky goodness, sweet and salty
wrapped up in transparent tears

I still grow with rice.
Nutty brown rice, mixed with the white,
wild rice with herbs, cooked in broth
More fiber, they say, for your fragile age
New flavors to complement the old
I inhale the memories, savor the kernels of thought ...
And I am filled.