After the summit, comes return. And the one before whom the King of Night truly kneels has always been the sun— the deliverer, the one who frees all beings into light.
After the summit, comes return.
And the one before whom the King of Night truly kneels
has always been the sun—
the deliverer,
the one who frees all beings into light.
After joy, the wreckage retreats:
broken goblets, overturned plates,
a silence where celebration once roared.
Green stirs.
Awakening begins.
The sun removes the clocks of night,
and the spell of black-and-white time dissolves.
Color returns,
and with it—
a new order begins.
WRITTEN BY
Li KejinI am an apple long suspended on a tree, too heavy, too astringent, too large, too unsightly—no one wishes to catch me, no one cares to pick me. And I, neither willing to fall and resign myself to the earth, nor to be reabsorbed by the tree, choose instead to hang awkwardly in midair. I pretend to still enjoy the breeze, the sunlight, the raindrops—to relish this amber moment untouched even by birds. Hopelessly, I wait for the serpent meant to guide her, to one day bring Eve to my side.Read more
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