bless this photograph

USA. New York. March 8, 1991. U.S. soldiers returning from the Gulf make telephone calls at the Kennedy Airport. The soldiers, tired after their 14-hour flight via Rome, flashed “victory” signs as they stepped off planes to the sound of cheering airline employees, and an Army band that played “God Bless America.”

Photograph: Bebeto Matthews/AP

7

And here it is, photos of my Joshua Graham cosplay taken in the actual Zion Canyon, Utah, off the Emerald Pools trail. Bless my photographer and good friend @archangelcodpiece for taking these photos and going on a hike with me in the middle of July. Zion is truly gorgeous and I can understand why Joshua considers it holy and worth protecting. I’ve never seen somewhere so beautiful.

“What a lovely picture of Chanhun :)”

“Wait a minute…”

“Umm…”

“Good luck you two..”

Morning of buttered toast;
of coffee, sweetened, with milk.

Out of the window,
snow-spruces step from their cobwebs.
Flurry of chickadees, feeding then gone.
A single cardinal stipples an empty branch –
one maple leaf lifted back.

I turn my blessings like photographs into the light;
over my shoulder the god of Not-Yet looks on:

Not-yet-dead, not-yet-lost, not-yet-taken.
Not-yet-shattered, not-yet-sectioned,
not-yet-strewn.

Ample litany, sparing nothing I hate or love,
not-yet-silenced, not-yet-fractured, not-yet-

Not-yet-not.

I move my ear a little closer to that humming figure,
I ask him only to stay.

Jane Hirshfield, “Not Yet,” in The Lives of the Heart (HarperCollins, 1997)

Morning of buttered toast;
of coffee, sweetened, with milk.

Out of the window,
snow-spruces step from their cobwebs.
Flurry of chickadees, feeding then gone.
A single cardinal stipples an empty branch –
one maple leaf lifted back.

I turn my blessings like photographs into the light;
over my shoulder the god of Not-Yet looks on:

Not-yet-dead, not-yet-lost, not-yet-taken.
Not-yet-shattered, not-yet-sectioned,
not-yet-strewn.

Ample litany, sparing nothing I hate or love,
not-yet-silenced, not-yet-fractured, not-yet-

Not-yet-not.

I move my ear a little closer to that humming figure,
I ask him only to stay.
—  Jane Hirshfield, “Not Yet”