From Blossoms

by Li-Young Lee


From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

Comments

  1. That was absolutely beautiful. I loved it.
    Our golden plum tree is so laden with fruit this year that some boughs have splintered off at the source. Whoever planted this tree had little foresight, as it's in the front by the curb. Consequently, unripe fruit becomes favorite projectiles for boys in the neighborhood . . . and the mail woman carries pruners with her this time of year to take care of branches that are in her way. Due to the abundance this year I am being very Zen about all the activity around the tree, realizing that it is the stuff of memories for these kids who pick and pop the plums before they are ripe, and then, when the fruit ripens spend long moments eating under its shade.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love this piece very much! :D..

    Some hope has been shone into my world today

    ReplyDelete
  3. Now I HAVE to go out in this heat and get some and make a pie ... well, maybe when it gets cooler

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oh, I love peaches! This was yummy.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thank you for the preciousness of this beautifully crafted, exquisitely evocative, simply profound, testament to life in it's finest moments. Kinda sounds like I really like it..... :-).

    ReplyDelete
  6. "O, to take what we love inside,
    to carry within us an orchard, to eat
    not only the skin, but the shade,
    not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
    the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into..."

    Perfect...wish we could. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

Popular posts from this blog

A Year with EB White

The Poet Goes to Indiana by Mary Oliver

Goldfinches by Mary Oliver