Archives For Memory

 

A Story We Cannot Tell
 
A Reflection on 

Sea Prayer
Khaled Hosseini

 
Hardback: Riverhead, 2018
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By Casey Tygrett
 
 

I remember the first video and still images I ever saw of refugee boats, loaded to capacity, pressing out into rough waters searching for hope. The sea is a strange and unstable place, especially in a boat made only for short trips. What kind of demons and darkness make a person willing to risk drowning because it would be a better end than living in their own city, sleeping in their own beds?

While the narrative of refugees may seem unfamiliar to you or I, living in relative safety and comfort in the West, the spare yet insightful book Sea Prayer by best-selling author Khaled Hosseini offers us both an entry point to the journey of refugees and a map for the spiritual journey all human beings take.

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Remembrance
Rainer Maria Rilke
*** Books by Rainer Maria Rilke ***


 

Rainer Maria RilkeExpectant and waiting you muse
On the great rare thing which alone
To enhance your life you would choose:
The awakening of the stone,
The deeps where yourself you would lose.

 

In the dusk of the shelves, embossed
Shine the volumes in gold and browns,
And you think of countries once crossed,
Of pictures, of shimmering gowns
Of the women that you have lost.

 

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DECEMBER
Liberty Hyde Bailey

(From Wind and Weather:  Poems.
Reprinted Doulos Christou Press, 2008)

It is now the high December.
The last betokened ember
Of the striving vivid year
That survived the brown November
Lies dead and painless here
Lies dead and pinched and sere;
And the fruits of proud September
Are hanging hanging here
They are hanging thin and sere;
And the masks of ward and rober
That bedecked the dyed October
They have found their finish here
They are lying crisped and sere
They are drifting bleached and blear.

It was in a far December
As distinctly I remember
Of a youthful doubtful year
That I sat in whitened fear
Of the death-end of the year;
For in forests gray and sober
I had mourned the red October
I had grieved for forests dry and drear;
And the crows and chickadees
And the wind-gusts in the trees
Made my sorrow sharp and clear,
And the leaves keen-edged and sere
Rasped an anguish in my ear
Of the dead and absent year.
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