“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.

Soul

My mind is dawning upon your words

I seek for gems and rubies around the world,

the mystic lives on across the soiled shore

The hydrangeas are beckoning me

Full of fragrance sweet across continents

The blue eyes of your soul marks my heart

It is a whirlwind of romance for your name

You gave me thousand indigo winters

Now I live among them

Blues are my guitar and strings

you play the victim of circumstances

Each morning I pray upon God’s soul

My forever escape into your fantasy realm

I read reality with kindness

The heavy fall rain of June summons me

I am with my child, a mere sunset

I write this verse with my dignity.

The World’s Wound

The earth’s chest is pierced, the sky is weeping,
On the grave of peace, the flowers have yellowed.
When will this cruel trial end?
Where has the duty of humanity vanished?

The earth trembles, the sky’s heart is torn,
As if not the sun, but wrath itself is poured.
Look—this horizon isn’t a crimson dusk,
From the veins of the land, blood has gushed.

The lifeless body of a child embraced,
Did you see the tears in a mother’s eyes?
When has the bird of happiness flown from here?
Have you ever asked yourself once?

See, tiny hands frozen,
A shell lies where toys should be.
He didn’t yet know the enemy’s words,
He only knew the mother’s milk.

Look—innocent tears of the little ones,
The soil stained with children’s blood.
These cries did not touch the stones,
Has the light in their hearts gone out?

We spoke of independence, embraced freedom,
Yet the cage of the heart is still the cage of the world.
From which path did we lose our way?
Why is every step a lesson from death?

Peace on your tongue, dagger in your hand—
What kind of hypocritical politics is this?
When will this polluted scene be cleansed?
In the world, the flowers of compassion have withered.

From Your Longing

The sky has cracked from your longing,
Your sigh has reached the gates of heaven.
In the night wounded by noise,
Your voice now searches for me.

The merciless wind blows without pause,
Pouring years of sorrow into my eyes.
Yet a lover stands like you,
Why speak of Majnun at all in this?

Emotions

My gaze lifts to the heavens,
I watch the birds in their bliss.
The spirit of freedom strolls through my heart,
Sharing your pure, innocent being.

Even the trees, and the flowers, hear
My wandering voice like a nightingale’s song.
Without making a sound, within the silence,
I strum my strange, single-stringed tune.

My soul aches, yet the earth endures—
I wipe my tears like pearls at every moment.
How serene is this strange nature,
Gently caressing my face in the soft night breeze.

Marjona Karshiyeva Zoxidjon qizi (born 2010)

Student at the Abdulla Qodiriy Creative School
Poetess
International eco-activist
Holds a B+ in Mother Tongue and Literature
3rd place winner at the 2025 City Stage of the Mother Tongue and Literature Olympiad
1st place winner in the “F” creative category at the “Kamalak Yulduzlari” Children’s Literature Festival, 2022
3rd place winner at the national stage of the “Kamalak Yulduzlari” Children’s Literature Festival, 2023
Her creative works have been published in the book “A Bouquet from the Garden of Creativity”, released among creative schools.

Mortuary

History can never be repeated 

Same water does not flow

In the same stream 

At the same place 

We are all the time 

Doing nothing 

But creating 

Or harrassing history 

History which is in the making 

Wonders why  instead of 

Doing some good 

So that future generations 

Could be happier 

We waste days and months 

In recalling historical personages 

in the name of inspiration 

In their own times 

They did not look back for inspiration 

Time forced them to act 

And they did not lose grace

In the face of temptations

That is what makes them great.

What are we doing ?

We have no such sense of grace 

And spend our time  only 

Remembering their glorious actions 

I have seen history upset 

And irritated with such people 

Who instead of doing their duty 

Towards future, 

Drag the past heroes 

In the present who have 

Nothing to say about the future 

Of mankind 

Which is afflicted by AI.

History is like a corpse 

Kept at a mortuary 

We are doctors who visit 

The mortuary day and night 

And come up with our own theories.

Who  murdered whom and 

What was the exact time 

Corpses do not speak

Only thank us for doting over dead.

Night Song

It’s quiet now, the hills

In a  sleepy trance 

Celebrate the rains

As darkness thickens;

Over a hill town drowsy 

With the rains early this 

Year

Climate change they say

In a chorus, even as the soul

Goes into a stupor,

Conniving with these hills

To wet drying lamps

In a garden which welcomes

The rains as a nocturnal visitor

A guest in this town where the

Rains thrash against the windows

And the hills mournful stamp their 

Signature on a hill town which 

Never ceases to be one

Why will you be a victim

Of climate change? 

You are Shillong in whose 

Murky evenings 

Thunderous rains clap

Into a perennial night song

And These Hills

The infinite zero

The identity of the wind

Swirling like a heavenly body

I cut the wound bleeding from

Past, a lifetime song

Of resusication

The macabre irony of a full proof

Life, is the resistance to it

Come question me sitting

Like a cursed zombie

All in me, mine alone

The wind is now silent

And I drown it in inner seas

Of past, present

A ghostly walk in catacombs

Of a mysterious self

Come love me like 

A quiet rustle of leaves

The wind, the rains, the placid 

Hills

Are mine, mine only.

Step lightly on these hills

Be careful, there are ruptures

Beneath, be careful to love them 

But if you do, make the way 

For them to love you

Otherwise you may lose the road

To eternity.

And these hills.

Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong. He has been writing and publishing his poetry for the last forty years.

THE LINK WEAKENS

In the back corner where Thole makes room for used tools, used wire, second-hand nails, even used books, there is a book entitled “Stress Holds for the Neophyte”.  Most everyone who makes it to the far wall re-sale table thumbs through it.  Picture upon picture, and sometimes drawings, of people, parts bent the wrong way, a road map to control, dominance, punishment.  No one reads the smattering of text on the bottoms and sides of pages.  But we speculate amongst ourselves who might have bought it new, abandoned it – before or after practice – here.  We look for need in faces.

 

THE WEIGHT OF MARRIAGE

My wife was not abducted – she went willingly with the oboists.  For a moment, the notes they were hurling formed the mathematics of music, and she began to dance.  I had not known her to dance before.  Into their clutch she danced, and, as the music fell snarling into disassociated whines, she continued to dance, the center of their affront.  I am going as quickly as I can to salvage from the back of my closet my oboe.  If I can catch them before town limits, it will not be a fair fight, but I have matrimony on my side.

TOLERANCE

We founded our town at the end of the earth.  Not too close, as no one wants to slip into the abyss – but close enough that tour guides can ferry the curious to the edge, travel time justifying the price of a ticket.  Our local economy centers around it, with earth-end hotels, restaurants, and souvenir stands.  Visitors are amazed they can stand at the lip, return to town to exchange experiences at an ordinary coffee shop.  Occasionally, a crowd believing the earth is round blows in.  We don’t argue.  They stay in our hotels, we let them be in error.

UNITY

There is an island in the center of the river where the River People plot against us.  We cannot guess what evil taunts and challenges they are developing for us.  Town Council is always thwarting one plot or another.  Citizens have been briefly abducted by River denizens, come back to town with horrid description of the River People’s lack of humanity.  We are hard pressed to find a logic to their designs.  What we know is that they are in every way counter to ourselves.  When out of-towners observe we have no river and no island, we explain our vigilance.

Sea 

The long and wide sea, full of mystery and magic and danger amidst its beauty. Great is its countenance. Maybe nobody described it such as Joseph Conrad. The sometimes-dark sea, saturnine and rueful. Sea. Ocean. The sands in the shores. All linked together. The world of the water. Vessels. Imagine the coral and the fish, sharks and whales, or the shipwrecks and sunken treasures perhaps ghosts, the phantoms of the depths and saltwater, roam with no need of breathing apparatus. Go and look spirit…pirate first mate captain mere honest passenger who paid their way and was so innocent and unassuming. What millions of secrets still?- UFO bases? Airplanes never found. Unknown species. Sea sea sea. Stories of the sea. Wild. Ocean. To wander its shores and think of it all.