unknown

Photographs

Submitted by Hannah W. on Sat, 07/25/2009 - 16:36

I don't know you
but I see your face, in black and white
and brown and grey
and yellowed paper,
torn, frayed
I don't know your name
But your pen has etched words between pages,
half-read, half-wondered,
smoothly curlicued
Hello there!
and Muskaka Avenue

I don't know you,
but there are weddings, deaths
communion, baptism,
flowers

I don't know your name
but there's someone smiling
up from brittle pages,
and a tiny television set, brand new
and black and white,

Black and white

Submitted by Mairead on Thu, 04/16/2009 - 13:12
The tree branches are black against the whiteness of the clouded winter sky.
They appear dark, and straight. They are clear, and yet they hold mysteries.
There is something unknown.
What makes the branches turn?
Why is their bark rough and lined with knots and swirls?
And then, sometimes smooth and soft with barely any mark or dirt?

Unknown….

On a hilltop above everything you can gaze at a mountain peak behind the town.
There is an edge, a line. What lies beyond?

to live everything

Submitted by Aisling on Tue, 01/06/2009 - 23:50

“Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
- Rainer Maria Rilke

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