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Tag Archives: fiction
The Hands That Meet Beyond the Horizon
(the voice of Sehyung Lee) At the bottom of the abyss,where all names fall silentand life leans toward death,I saw two hands— one descendinglike a leaf released by autumn,the other risinglike a small flamesearching for the dawn. Between themwas almost … Continue reading
When the Crows Sang for SaRang
The crows came into my backyard this morning— black wings against a pale and trembling sky, singing their ancient song: Caw. Caw. Caw. Their voices were rough, almost sorrowful, and somehow they stirred a fragile place inside my heart. For … Continue reading
“Over the two screws*”
I used not to ask anything. All my life, I did the work myself. Do it alone — never ask — that was my rule. And yet, there I was again on the bathroom floor, learning that nothing about making … Continue reading
“Absent Labor, I Fade Away”
Time movesin its quiet circles, and I move within it— a small figurein the workshop of days, one pair of aging handsamong the countless handsthat have built this world. Absent labor,I fade away. Not yet into death, but into somethingalmost … Continue reading
“SWIM AS JUBILEE” II
(1) Swim— O my soul, swim. Do not turn backwardinto the dim coves of memory,where yesterday keeps its broken boatsand old voices call us by nameswe have already outgrown. Swim. Swim as Jubilee. Swim toward the widening horizon,toward the place … Continue reading
“True Music”
— With a Heart Longing for Peace I stand upon the shore. The sea roars. The wind moves. The moon waits. The sun gives. All of them draw one another through the quiet conversation of the universe. Far beneath, the … Continue reading
“Gwangjang Market”
This morning we hurried beneath Seoul, riding the subway toward Gwangjang Market, and before the market itself revealed its thousand faces, a nine-month-old girl riding in her stroller offered us the first greeting of the day. Her mother beside her, … Continue reading
“Over Cheongpung Lake”
The water remembers. Not only water, but roads that no longer lead anywhere, a stone step before a vanished door, a mulberry tree reaching toward a field that now sleeps beneath the lake. Names once spoken at dusk rest quietly … Continue reading
“Cricket on My Window”
Who are you, little voyager of the green world? Out of the roaring highway you came, out of the bright rush of June, out of the invisible fields and grasses beyond the guardrails, crossing the torrent of speed without hesitation. … Continue reading
“Ascending Namsan”
At last, I climbed Namsan. For the first time. All my life I had longed for this mountain. And Namsan welcomed me as though it had been waiting for ages beyond counting, through millions of years of stone and sky. … Continue reading
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