Answer:
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
My children are near and far. No matter that I know where they are. The gift I give them make their day. But if I were gone they would wander away.
What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?
A hole in a pole, though I fill a hole in white. I'm used more by the day, and less by the night.
What is it that no man ever yet did see, which never was, but always is to be?
This food is a tortilla filled with cheese and sometimes chicken before being heated or cooked.