Posted on October 27, 2015
From blossoms
I didn’t write this. But a friend sent it to me and it spoke to me and made my heart hurt but also sting less – some comfort in beautiful words. And I wanted it to be here somehow. Thank you Li-Young Lee.
From blossoms
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we brought 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.
Just lovely.
This summer I went peach picking with my mom and my toddler. I was almost 8 months pregnant, and the baby girl growing inside me kicked and stretched, making me wince—and smile. I ate peaches in the orchard surrounded by branches heavy with the fruit, and the juice dripped down my chin and stained the shirt stretched taught over my big belly.
It was a beautiful day. Thank you for reminding me of it.
This is beautiful! Poetry isn’t usually my thing, but I love it.