됐달. 됐달.

“The leaves on the trees we approached were a molten gold, like an artist had taken a sunset and poured it over the forest, and the crisp smell of the coming winter floated on the autumn breeze. It was early afternoon, and the birds sang bright and loud in the treetops.”
― Ashley Poston, Among the Beasts & Briars

“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 of 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,
from blossoms to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.”
― Li-Young Lee, Rose

“A Blackberry Winter by Stewart Stafford

Pond ice beneath the hawthorn tree,
Reeds grasping from the frigid sculpture,
Freezing fog clinging to land and foliage,
Nature hindered but still in amelioration.

Horses in crunching frosted footsteps march,
To break the water trough's thick glaze,
And drink thirstily in raw, jagged gulps,
Until the thaw smoothes itself upon milder days.

A swan slips and skates on the icicled river,
Hoarfrost-encrusted rocks a guard of honour,
The Anatidae ascension, maladroit but effective,
Sure to pluck better days from its plumed reign.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“And when your soul, the flame, the spark, meets with the divine fuel that is so pure and so strong, it results in immense enlightenment: the enlightenment of God. Light upon light, Noorun Alaa Noor.”
― Zain Hashmi, A Blessed Olive Tree: A Spiritual Journey in Twenty Short Stories