Saturday, August 1, 2009


~ from blossoms ~

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.

~ Li-Young Lee ~


Bonnie, Original Art Studio said...

What an exquisite poem. Thank you for sharing it. Wow!

Alaine said...

It is; I'd like to read more from this poet.

Delwyn said...

Hi Alaine

what a peachy poem...

I could taste the dust and feel the furry peach skin on my lips and teeth...

a lovely poem...someone else to add to the look it up list...

thanks Alaine

Happy days

Alaine said...

Hi Delwyn, He's quite famous, I must buy one of his books.

I must try your blog again; couldn't open it this morning. I'm interested in your Pumpkin Soup - DMJ makes it weekly in Winter; very hearty.

Derrick said...

Hi Alaine,

I have a blog friend, Lyn, who loves all things peach. I'll let her know about this one!

Lyn said...

I have Derrick, Melrose Musings, to thank for leading me here..I am a fool for peaches..the poem touches me more than anything I've read in quite a while..Thank you!!
(The Peaches of Saint-Paul..)

Susan said...

Ooh, that made my mouth water! I could almost taste those peaches! Beautiful!

Alaine said...

Derrick, Lyn, Susan, I found more of his poetry, just as wonderful. Click on his image in sidebar for more.

Lyn, welcome and thankyou for your little avatar on the side!

T. Clear said...

A lovely poem. The essence of summer, the essence of being present in the moment.