Pudding, like life,
Is generally of one consistency made weird by tapioca, which, like manna,
Is probably another way of saying ‘what is it?’
There are tapioca distractions,
Lumps in the dirt cake:
Chunks of Oreo?
Vanilla wafer? No.
If it’s life. It’s probably real dirt.
Like dog vomit tapioca,
or flat tire tapioca,
or unexpected taxes tapioca.
But it’s not always real dirt.
There’s real dirt cake with crushed Oreos, gummy worms, and actual Nilla wafers.
“will you go out with me?” Vanilla pudding.
“Right now!” Hasty pudding.
“Here’s a present!” Christmas pudding.
“Married happy.” Bread pudding.
“Friends forever!” Chocolate pudding.
“Sunny weather” summer pudding.
“And let’s just call it breakfast!” White pudding, black pudding.
But maybe there’s a lot more pudding in life, than life in pudding?
Like pudding in the time to take a rest and then just listen.
Pudding in another hour, knowing what you’re missing.
Pudding yourself last so someone else can have it first.
Pudding kindness. Pudding justice. Pudding up with others at their worst.
There’s a lot more out of life we get when we focus on the pudding
Rather than upon what’s our to receive, or what others should be woulding.