Eat a Peach
Today I attended a memorial service for a man who died too young, but led his life with extraordinary grace, gusto and appreciation for the people he loved. His family and friends spoke eloquently of his courage, his passion for the outdoors, and his ability to focus on the important things in life. Despite the fact that no cleric spoke and no prayers were read, I felt the presence of God in the room very strongly as people connected in their grief and acknowledged the fragility of life and the power of love. The poem his family reprinted in the service’s program spoke to me, perhaps because of conversations I’ve had with Ranya and Suzanne about my sister’s ability, despite the illnesses she battles, to take joy in the smallest things in life, such as finding “a good, ripe peach at the market.”
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.
- by Li-Young Lee in ROSE