My name is Podrigotumma and one time while I was leading Carimila I was walking

from one building to another and Carimila is right on the North Coast of Ireland

and a woman was standing there in the morning light looking out at the sea

and she came over and she said I was supposed to be part of a meeting but I saw

the light and I realized standing in the light was more important and then she

said my brother died if he wants to go and I never thought I'd ever be happy

again and she was so caught up in the moment it's like she was living inside a poem

I stood with her for a while smelling the salt and the air smelling the

Heather and the blossoms of summer and I think that sometimes an experience we

have can be a poem in and of itself from blossoms by Lee 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 towards signs painted peaches from laden

bows 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 oh to take what we love inside to carry within us and

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 I have loved the work of Lee

Young Lee for years and I actually began reading him with his most recent

books first and then began to work backwards and this poem from blossoms is in

...