“God is Change.” — Octavia Butler, The Parable of the Sower

This month’s issue explores how individuals and societies navigate change, uncertainty, and transformation. Through poetry, essays, cultural criticism, artwork, fiction, and scholarship, these works examine what it means to stay human in a rapidly shifting world, while searching for meaning, connection, identity, and resilience.

Our issue starts with contributors looking directly into time, change, and transformation. Jacques Fleury speaks to seasons, renewal, and the passage of time. Patrick Sweeney’s monostich poems explore transitions, nostalgia, and fleeting but precious moments. J.K. Durick draws on airports as a metaphor for connection, disconnection, and transition. Roberta Beach Jacobson addresses identity, impermanence and transformation in her poetry. Nozimova Shukrona highlights how travel can facilitate personal growth, learning, and development. Tursunova Mehrinoz Oybek qiz outlines the process of self-discovery, career and intellectual development. Laskiaf Amortegui encourages readers to focus on the present and future, drawing on heartbreaks as catalysts for the future rather than letting romantic disappointment hold us back. Elaine Murray celebrates the warm, gentle beauty of the country on a spring day. Brian Barbeito speaks to the deep mystery of the sea as rendered through different works of literature, and to the continual change of seasons.

Other writers speak to love, longing, and human connection. Mesfakus Salahin reflects on the importance of love and freedom in a changing and fragile world. Joshua Obirija somehow misses a place he’s never been. Stephen Jarrell Williams expresses love, longing, nostalgia, imagination, and a sense of vulnerability. Milica Tomić begs a lover to return to her and renew the early days of their relationship. Yuldasheva Xadichaxon Bahodir qizi laments a lost love. Lan Xin speaks eloquent words of comfort to those living through romantic heartbreak. Eva Lianou Petropoulou rejoices in the power of love to overcome difficult situations. Soumen Roy’s poetry “Lonely River” is a reflective and introspective piece that explores themes of love, isolation, growth, and resilience. Kholboyev Mashrab offers love and respect to his caring mother. Abdusalomova Marjona Jahongir qizi celebrates a mother’s unconditional love. Polina Moys celebrates family, kindness, children, and gratitude for everyday blessings. Bakhadirova Rukhshona remembers the love of a caring grandfather figure. Saparboyeva Laylo Hajiboy kizi’s short story relates how mothering can bring people purpose and help them move forward after loss.

Some people engage in existential reflection and the search for meaning. J.J. Campbell’s lyrical works explore disillusionment, existential crisis, and the search for meaning in a decaying world. Jelena Jovanović illuminates existential crisis, nihilism, and the search for meaning. Sterling Warner’s poems rebel against conformity and consumerism, turning instead to inward spirituality. Sayani Mukherjee explores the concept of soul, the essence of a person, and of a society. Duane Vorhees’ poetry speaks to duality, paradox, repression and authenticity, and the subconscious and the power of nature. Daniel G. Snethen and Alex S. Johnson’s spider poem suggests that existence is cyclical, with life and death being intertwined and perpetual. Elena Nedelcu’s poems present a dreamlike, iridescent view of the world, speaking to self-discovery, love and connection, and spiritual searching.

Some look into war, violence, and historical memory. Alan Catlin’s work probes propaganda, wartime violence, and the “banality of evil” with destruction amidst cultural entertainment. Joseph C. Ogbonna critiques hubris through an epic take on Napoleon’s military downfall in the Russian winter. Marjona Karshiyeva Zoxidjon speaks to war, loss, and the longing for peace. Jernail S. Anand urges people to integrate the lessons of history into today rather than consigning historical figures to the past. Su Yun’s pieces point to the impact of violence on a child’s fragile psyche and the power of art to enhance resilience.

Still others explore themes of identity, society, and cultural critique. Ken Poyner touches on the fragility of relationships and social norms and the blurred lines between order and control. Mark Young’s intertextual work sends up a mishmash of names and identities, high and low culture. Alex S. Johnson critiques the propensity of the healthcare system to use its soft power to generate clinical narratives that can override patients’ lived realities. Later, he lampoons celebrity culture through an essay on the off-screen personality of Willem Dafoe. Hilola Sharipova reminds young would-be Internet influencers to focus on character rather than fame and appearance. Muslima Murodova reminds us to look beyond first impressions and avoid snap judgements in social situations.

Literature, art, and creativity are often important vehicles by which we hold onto and communicate our humanity amid change. Kobulova Madina outlines the types of heroes presented in Russian literature and how the concept of heroism has diversified in recent years. Harinder Cheema revels in the power of poetry to foster creativity and transcend cultural boundaries. Ozodbek Narzullayev honors the power of poetry and the calling of being a poet. Shahnoza Amanboyeva adds her thoughts to the question of artificial intelligence’s effects on artistic creativity. Dr. Reda Abdul Rahim compares themes of imagination and facing the unknown in Haruki Murakami’s Murder of the Commander and the ancient epic of Gilgamesh. Murtazoeva Shakhnozabonu advocates for youth to study classical Russian literature. Fhen M. celebrates and honors the lengthy heritage of literary and popular musical and literary culture in his evocative poem. Tuychiyeva Odinaxon Axmadjon qizi looks into how globalization and nationalism are simultaneously influencing Uzbek art. In an interview with poet Eva Lianou Petropoulou about his Hyperloop project, where he collects short poems from around the world, writer Alexander Kabishev discusses what he’s learned about innovation, collaboration, and perseverance.

Several writers look to education, language, and learning as facets of human creativity. Jumanazarova Nafisa speculates on the advantages of online vs offline education. Orinboyeva Sayyora and Maxliyoxon Yuldasheva discuss various pedagogical approaches to improving student communication in foreign languages. Soliyeva Dilshoda Tokhtamatjon qizi highlights ways to use fairy tales to improve language learners’ speech. Alimardonova Gulsevar Sirojiddinovna offers up a comparative analysis of terminology in English and Uzbek. Shohista Narzulla O’ktamova qizi discusses nouns and adjectives in Uzbek dialects. Norqizilova Layla outlines the potential roles for artificial intelligence in education. Feruza Otaboyeva suggests that students should volunteer for the sake of helping others, not just to pad their resumes.

Several of these writers focus on the transformation of society through labor, industry, and modernization. Rakhimova Dilafroʻz Axrorjon qizi explores the food industry as a living expression of Uzbek identity, showing how nourishment becomes a bridge between cultural continuity and modern commerce. Umarova Muattarxon Akromjon qizi similarly examines the garment industry as both a practical and symbolic force within Uzbekistan’s evolving economy, where tradition is stitched into the fabric of contemporary life. Oʻrinboyeva Ziynatjon’s discussion of big data expands this transition into the scientific and technological sphere, portraying a world increasingly shaped by information systems that redefine medicine, research, and communication. Kholdorova Durdona Odiljonovna looks deeper into medicine, outlining the physiological mechanism of inflammation. Muxtorov Xabibullo Kozimjon o‘g‘li discusses modern methods for reactive electrical power compensation. Nigora Tursunboyeva weighs the promises and dangers technology presents to younger generations, illuminating the tension between digital opportunity and emotional vulnerability. Jamilova Zaxro’s work on digital diplomacy further reflects a civilization adapting its oldest political practices to a rapidly interconnected world. Meanwhile, Jalolova Ruxshona Nosir qizi, Ubaydullayeva Fariza Sheraliyevna, and O‘rinboyeva Zarina Xabibullo qizi examine risk prediction and logistics modeling, emphasizing how modern societies increasingly rely upon technology and data to navigate uncertainty.

Yet transition is not only technological or economic; it is deeply moral and psychological. Nazarova Hamida turns toward the humanitarian wisdom of Uzbek poets Alisher Navoi and Abay Qunanbayuli, whose works remind readers that periods of change require compassion and ethical grounding. Hua Ai’s reflections in Quintessence similarly argue that meaningful social transformation begins within the self: before one changes the world, one must first confront one’s own consciousness. Zinnura Yo‘ldoshaliyeva explores the psychology of risk-taking, capturing the fragile threshold between fear and courage that accompanies every major life decision. Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi encourages readers to resist the crushing weight of criticism and maintain dignity amid judgment, portraying resilience as an act of survival during moments of personal upheaval.

Many of these works also examine what it means to remain human within unstable environments. Hauwa Hassan Haruna presents one of the collection’s most striking paradoxes: women are often forced to become invisible for safety while simultaneously fighting to remain visible enough to claim dignity and rights. Erkinjonova Bibisora Elyorbek qizi offers another quiet portrait of vulnerability through her empathy for a lonely older man, suggesting how aging itself becomes a transition into isolation and invisibility. Bill Tope mourns the disappearance of inexpensive comic books and childhood treasures, tracing the painful shift from youthful abundance into nostalgic loss. His reflections remind readers that even ordinary objects become markers of changing eras.

Against these anxieties, several contributors seek refuge in tenderness, imagination, and connection with the natural world. Ananya S. Guha dissolves the boundaries between human beings and nature, envisioning love and belonging on a planet overshadowed by climate crisis. The poems suggest that humanity’s survival may depend upon rediscovering intimacy with the earth itself. Student works collected by Su Yun return readers to innocence through playful clouds and animals, preserving moments of wonder that adulthood often forgets. Christina Chin’s haiga, centered on kittens and their protective mother, offers an image of care and familial devotion amid uncertainty. Likewise, the poem by Chinese poet and music producer He Taiji portrays Lan Xin as a figure of serenity and kindness whose quiet presence becomes transformative for others, reminding readers that gentleness itself can guide people through periods of unrest.

The collection also celebrates the sustaining power of culture and community during times of transition. Rahmonova Dildora highlights the importance of cultural immersion in her piece where a traveler encounters the gentle sincerity of the Uzbek people, suggesting that identity is strengthened through openness rather than isolation. Yayra Erkin qizi Bo‘riyeva advocates for physical exercise, public competitions, and healthier urban design, envisioning communities that evolve not only economically but physically and socially. Her work imagines progress as something lived collectively through public space, movement, and shared participation.

Transition is both disruptive and necessary, integral to human and non-human nature. Even as it unsettles institutions and identities, change can open new possibilities for connection, awareness, and renewal. These works remind us that people endure, adapt, and continue searching for meaning while the world around them transforms.

Self-searching

He wandered lost, still searching for his soul,

Like one gone mad who’s lost his path and way.

His words can’t reach the depth he can’t control,

Like moths that play with fire and fade away.

Perhaps he’s lost within the mist so wide,

Or in the desert, weak and left alone.

Though truth within his heart he cannot hide,

No strength remains to take a step alone.

Did he go wrong along the roads he chose,

Or dreams misguided led his steps astray?

Or does he wonder, no one truly knows,

Why he has spent his precious life this way?

Perhaps he’ll write his story once again,

As if he sees the world for the first time.

He’ll paint each page with care, again and then,

Like writing on white paper, line by line.

He stands between two paths, unsure which way,

Tired of restless storms he feels inside.

Perhaps his place is somewhere far away,

Though still his heart has chosen here to bide.

O youth, awaken—do not drift too long,

Protect your heart, keep it both pure and strong.

When life confronts you, stand your ground, be strong,

For you are human—rise where you belong.

My name is Tursunova Mehrinoz Oybek qizi. I was born on February 28, 2005, in Andijan region. Currently, I am a third-year student at Andijan State Pedagogical Institute. I chose primary education because I enjoy working with children.

My favorite activities are reading books and learning languages. At the moment, I work as a Turkish language teacher. In my free time, I enjoy writing poems.

The Tongue of Pain

As an old proverb used to say:

“The dogs will bark — the caravan finds its way.”

The fault’s not theirs, don’t place the blame,

They bark along the road the same.

To stand up right is never light,

The world will push with all its might.

If fortune smiles and lifts you high,

They wound your heart and pass you by.

If you succeed, their faces fall,

In envy’s poison, trapped they crawl.

They whisper lies, both harsh and wild,

With tongues that stretch a mile and piled.

They bark and bark till they grow weak,

Then chase again the ones they seek.

No rest they find, no peace inside,

Still running with their wounded pride.

As Abdulla Oripov once wrote in pain:

“May grief not burn your soul in vain…

Yet bitterness will make you cry,

When caravans pass barking by.”

Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi Uzbekistan 

“I charge.”-Willem Dafoe.

The strangest thing about Willem Dafoe’s career is not that he played Jesus Christ once. It’s that he played Jesus only once. A brief clerical malfunction in the casting universe, immediately corrected by returning him to his usual rotation of characters who look like they’ve been living on a steady diet of dust, nicotine, unresolved sexual tension and built up flatus.

Nothing from the Christ role appears to have adhered. No trace of grace. No residual compassion. Not even the faintest aftertaste of “love one another.”

When I asked him for an interview, the man who once overturned the moneychangers’ tables responded with the charm of a sun‑bleached parking citation:

“I charge.”

Three words. Dry as chalk. Delivered with the affect of someone who has spent his entire career speaking from the shadows of graffiti-scrawled industrial stairwells.

This would have been unremarkable if I hadn’t spent years in the company of people whose cultural mass makes Dafoe’s filmography look like a series of public‑service announcements about dehydration. Lemmy offered me cigarettes on his hotel bed. Katherine MacGregor, not an interview subject but a personal friend, took me to Amadeus in her Mercedes and explained the film with the precision of a woman who had outlived several artistic epochs. Caroline Munro had lunch with me in London. Gitane DeMone shared a meal; Tairrie B. Murphy gave me a squeezy hug after a long interview at a Hollywood Starbucks. Ellyn Maybe once talked with me on Zoom for nearly ten hours without implying that the meter was running. Tom Sullivan, Iris Berry, Ellyn Maybe, Pleasant Gehman, Militia Vox, Valor Kand, Caitlín R. Kiernan, Amélie Frank, John Shirley—all of them managed to speak without attaching a price tag to the act of being alive.

None of them ever said, “I charge.” They had no need to.

Dafoe’s line didn’t offend me; then again, I am neither innocent nor naive. Of course he isn’t Jesus. He’s an actor who essayed that role once. At the same time, it amplified an extraordinary reality…everything before and after fits neatly into a narrow emotional climate: dimly lit, vaguely threatening, and fundamentally transactional.

At some point, the absurdity staged itself. I imagined a biblical marketplace, the kind with dust that has given up on kinetic movement.

Dafoe‑Jesus emerges, robes hanging like fabric that has never known water, eyes carrying the same parched intensity he brings to every role that isn’t Christ. He approaches with the solemnity of a man about to deliver a parable, then leans in and mutters, “You want an interview? That’ll cost you.” Salvation as a side hustle.

He adjusts his crown of thorns with the same energy as a man straightening a hat he found in a gutter and begins explaining that miracles incur overhead, that loaves and fishes do not multiply themselves, that the Sermon on the Mount comes with a mount fee.

The disciples stand behind him like dehydrated stagehands—Peter attempting authority, Judas calculating percentages, Thomas deciding whether to doubt the whole thing or request documentation.

I mention Lemmy, Betty White, Katherine MacGregor, Caroline Munro, Gitane, Tairrie, Ellyn’s ten‑hour conversation, the thousands I’ve been paid for my work. He listens without absorbing anything, then shrugs with the resignation of someone who has never portrayed a character capable of hydration. “I’m not them,” he says. “I’m working here.”

He produces a battered invoice tablet from somewhere in his robe—an object that looks like it has survived several droughts—and begins itemizing a charge for “spiritual consultation.” After a long pause, he pockets it again and says, “Fine. This one’s on the house. Don’t tell the Pharisees.”

Then he disappears into the crowd, back into the role he never stops playing: a man who looks like he’s about to ask if you’re finished with that cigarette.

The only miracle he performed was waiving his own fee. Those two words were the only free performance I was ever going to get, and they conveyed everything necessary.

Sewer Statue

Like a cast bronze statue

of an American allegator

emerging from the depths

of a metropolitan sewer,

my spirit materializes

from dank storm drains

committed to memory

and mischief, seeking

a response to absurd

allegiances, ridiculous norms

and would-be leaders’

relentless self-service

and childish rants.

Come rise, come rise,

come rise we all now

step beyond fields

of square marble tiles

that reaffirm conformity

and inspire superstition

amongst people who

dare to step on cracks

established, break molds,

and create human flocks

as devoted to tomfoolery as

they are to tucking sheets

without questions.

*****************************************

Murmuration

Coal black plumage on sabbatical

between spiritual and living worlds

ordinary yet mystical blackbirds

guided me away from gravesides

where I’d grown accustomed to tossing

handfuls of dirt onto coffins lowered

into burial holes, endeavoring to maintain

a stout face, warm heart, and reverent mind

as I paid last respects for people I’d lost

and those with dance cards to death’s final waltz.

Ebon speckled clouds lit up the skies

as the blackbirds moved between worlds

like holy ravens imparting omens,

plucking seeds from towering sunflowers,

spreading feathery imas—divine inspiration—

from the tips of their wings and naked beaks;

their melodious harmonies masked oracles

yet delighted my ears which eagerly absorbed

each mystical note, yet avoided eye contact

as tricksters’ shared sacred songs and healed.

*****************************************

Recycling

Like a frustrated mongoose

my USB-C iPhone plug cries out

refusing to recharge as waste paper

burst into flames and plastic endures.

Recycling chewing gum

by crafting teeth-marked chaws—

green, pink, yellow, blue, red,

orange, and purple lumps–

has changed; those days

of sticking it beneath chairs

came and went creative minds

into spearmint ashtrays,

cinnamon door stops,

and licorice paperweights.

I weigh my limited options

in a throwaway culture given to comfort.

seduced by streaming influencers.

mesmerized by celebrity.

*****************************************

Sin Salida Real

Dude ranch entrance signs promise

magical gateways—city slicker portals—

old west access to fatigued quarter horses

or docile mares along hoof hardened trails

each path an exit from the familiar

to an exotic, rugged thoroughfare

showcasing alien pastoral images

teasing one’s sight with kodak color

as the overwhelming scent of sapphire

orchards, blue moon wisteria,

dry eucalyptus, and lavender bundles

fill starved lungs with an ineffable

fragrance distilled in nature’s garden.

True, yes true! Ranch guests exercised

their olfactory senses in big city bellies

breathing in smog, choaking on smoke

inhaling car exhaust like unrefined narcotics

provided means and ends for many metropolitans

working where glass and steel structures

solemnly shaded select sidewalks 

at the whim of municipal planners,

free parking spots existed in memory,

as angry voices merged with the sound

of car horns, street minstrels and traffic.

Back at the dude ranch, city dwellers

reveled in roleplay, scraping horse shit

off of highly polished cowboy boots

shouting like fools as they attempt

to rope calves in small wooden corrals

answerable to no one but themselves

until country trysts and make believe

scenarios confuse dissembling with escape

exits beget entrances, portals lead to prisons.

*****************************************

Manatee Musings

For Anne Waldman

I

heard

Anne Waldman, called

Ginsburg’s spiritual wife,

her Angel Hair Anthology—

The Howl’s first cousin,

restlessly tranquil,

Buddha’s loins

issue a bold lineage,

a priceless odyssey

through light and shadow,

Outriders rocking on edges

of “The Jack Kerouac School

of Disembodied Poetics,”

meditation’s soft underbelly,

a manatee reminder.

Waldman’s soul revisits humanity,

encourages disparate voices:

unchecked,

uncensored,

unimpeded,

unconstrained,

responds to diaspora’s

social signals,

communities under siege,

Rupert Murdock’s minions

mind-numbing brainwash

of twisted truths, invented factoids,

political assignations.

Sing on like the manatee,

Anne, sing on.

A Washington-based author, poet, educator, and Pushcart Nominee, Sterling Warner’s works have appeared in such literary magazines, journals, and anthologies The Raven’s Perch, Lothlórien Poetry Journal, Ekphrastic Journal Review, Bewildering Stories, and Verse-Virtual. Warner has written over a dozen volumes of poetry/fiction including Without Wheels, ShadowCat, Edges, Memento Mori, Serpent’s Tooth, Flytraps: Poems, Cracks of Light: Pandemic Poetry & Fiction, Halcyon Days: Collected Fibonacci, Abraxas, Gunills’s, Garden: Poetry, Seaboard Magic (2026)—as well as Masques: Flash Fiction & Short Stories.  He currently writes, hosts “virtual” poetry/fiction readings, turns wood, and enjoys fishing and boating along the Hood Canal.

A Thousand Winters to Summer

by Jacques Fleury 

             As I walked the streets
   Winter underneath my feet
With lingering thoughts
Like past lives incomplete
With beauty hidden underneath my tongue
With dreams as green as my mother’s thumb
I kneel at God’s feet
My breath incomplete
Like a secret defeat
Futility dancing to tomorrow’s beat
Vivid notions to deceit
Dragging in the heart of the midday hour
Stressing the sun’s smirk
Watching winter’s
Swoon…
Then comes summer
          As crescent as candid as the moon
        Like the morning soon
    Creeps out of its cocoon…

Jacques Fleury is a Boston Globe featured Haitian American Poet, Educator, Author of four books and literary arts student at Harvard University online. His latest publication “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self” & other titles are available at all Boston Public Libraries, the University of Massachusetts Healey Library, University of Wyoming, Askews and Holts Library Services in the United Kingdom, The Harvard Book Store, The Grolier Poetry Bookshop, Amazon etc… He has been published in prestigious publications such as Spirit of Change Magazine, Wilderness House Literary Review, Muddy River Poetry Review, Litterateur Redefining World anthologies out of India, Poets Reading the News, the Cornell University Press anthology Class Lives: Stories from Our Economic Divide, Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene among others…Visit him at:  http://www.authorsden.com/jacquesfleury.–

Some people consider that individuals are not exercising currently, however they realize it is positive for their well-being.

To begin with, the issue can be attributed to a number of different factors. Chief among the primary causes would be how busy we are. Many people work long hours in the office because of much data and manage extra digital technologies, which is why they do not find leisure time to exercise. Furthermore, this happens among students who are busy with house chores and homework. In addition, some people consume diet dishes as vegetarians and think diet is enough and that they don’t have to exercise. However, exercise is still important, even for them.

Nevertheless, some feasible measures could be adopted to tackle the problems described above. The first possible measure to address this issue would be organized competitions with prizes given by the government as a way for them to help every person. Moreover, employees of the council should set up sports matches among the adults and old people. Playing football or volleyball could bring people together. Another plausible way to mitigate the issue might be that the regime should restrict private cars instead of bicycles. Communicate to the public that using bicycles as convenience transport on the ground will not only give much profit to humans but will also help with reducing air pollution in the environment. In fact, if a person cycles every day to work, they will benefit their heart and lungs.

To sum up, the above – mentioned facts have outlined the reasons for as well as the impacts of this problem. This is a complex matter which can hardly be solved in the short term. However, if the above – mentioned measures are well implemented, it is likely that this problem can be overcome.

My name is Yayra Erkin qizi Bo‘riyeva. I was born on September 14, 2007, in the G‘uzor district of the Qashkadarya region.

I am currently a dedicated and motivated student with a strong interest in personal and academic development. I hold a B2 level certificate in English, which reflects my ability to communicate effectively in both written and spoken forms.

In addition, I participated in the “Yosh Kitobxon” competition, where I achieved a score of 2, demonstrating my interest in reading and literature. I am eager to further improve my skills, expand my knowledge, and actively contribute to any academic or professional environment I become part of.