Thursday, September 11, 2008

I want to unfold.

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone 
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying 
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed 
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everyday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Image © 2008 Julie Cope 

Can you image?

2,752 lives lost. It's paralyzing to reflect back on each individual directly affected by the actions of few. What it must have been like? Death and destruction barreling down all around you. Thick smokey despair choking the confusion that pounds through your vanes in your split second search for an answer, any answer. You look up through the haze and see debris spiraling down only to realize that you'd just witnessed someone willingly leaping to his or her miserable fate. 
Heavy on the heart puts it lightly.