Pickering College - Voyageur Yearbook (Newmarket, Ontario Canada)

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Iwwltuvesix Lord, they hurt me! They are in the way, they are all over. They are too hungry, they are consuming me! l can't do anything any moreg as they come in, they push the door, and the door opens wider. . . Ah, Lord! my door is wide open! I can't stand it any more! lt's too much! lt's no kind of a life! What about my job? My family? My peace? My liberty? And me? Ah, Lord! l have lost everything, l don't belong to myself any longer, There's no more room for me at home. Don't worry, God says, you have gained all. While men came in to you, l, your Father. l, your God, Slipped in among them. The Refugee As the cool, silent breezes beekon to ancient dawn And, up on a mountaintop, a wintry gale moans While the last war cries bitterly once again, reverberating among the dry canyons and dead streams. I wait in frustration. Far, far away from the Fords, Chevrolets and Triumphs, A child's lost, hungry wail echoes from its cave of suffoeation And remains unheeded in these stark and dry riverbeds that will always be soaked in dead dreams ofa past history . . . The tents of refugees shimmer and crumble in the baked valley of stone, devoured by twisting tortured blizzards of Hell, as roaring, scrcechingjets cover and disturb the pounding noisy silence of the last canyon walls, throwing a blazing path of ecstasy, dark trails of crimson, from horizon to horizon and from cliff to cliff. All this lies as a relTection in the mirror of the Book of Reckoning. A cold-blooded trembling rage cxpectantly surges on through the endless hurricanes of time in this rock-strewn desert. . . . l await a resurrection. Anon

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Lord, Why Dia' You Tell Me To Lord, why did you tell me to love all men, my brothers? I have tried, but I come back to you, frightened . . . Lord, I was so peaceful at home, I was so comfortably settled. I was well-furnished, and I felt cozy. I was alone, I was at peace, Sheltered from the wind and the rain, kept clean. I would have stayed unsullied in my ivory tower. But, Lord, you have discovered a breach in my defenses. You have forced me to open my door. Like a squall of rain in the face, the cry of men has awakened me: Like a gale of wind a friendship has shaken me, Stealing in like a shaft of light, your grace has disturbed me. Rashly enough, I left my door ajar. Now, Lord, I am lost! Outside, men were lying in wait for me. I did not know they were so nearg in this house, in this street. in this officeg my neighbor, my colleague, my friend. As soon as I started to open the door I saw them, with outstretched hands, anxious eyes, longing hearts, like beggars on church steps. The first came in, Lord. There was, after all, a bit of space in my heart. I welcomed them. I would have cared for them and fondled them, my very own little lambs, my little flock. You would have been pleased, Lord, I would have served and honoured you in a proper, respectable way. Until then, it was sensible . . . But the next ones, Lord, the other men e I had not seen themg they were hidden behind the first ones. There were more of them. They were wretched: they overpowered me without warning. We had to crowd in, I had to find room for them. Now they have come from all over in successive waves, pushing one another. jostling one another. They have come from all over town, from all parts of the country, of the worldg numberless, inexhaustible. They don't come alone any longer but in groups, bound one to another. They come bending under heavy loads, loads of injustice, of resentment and hate, of suffering and sin . . . They drag the world behind them, with everything rusted, twisted, badly adjusted. L0 ve? twen ty- Eve

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Genesis Part Two A man worked, busily trying to light a small fire in front ofa dismal shack, roughly constructed of twigs and mud. All around to the farthest horizons gleamed small pieces of steel and other metals. These were the last signs of a once great civilization. Now there was nothing, or, at most, very little. The man's name was . . . well, he really didn't have a name. The others called him king , He was of the second generation after the crisis. Since his adolescence. he had rapidly established his supremacy over the tribe. He enjoyed his position and little cared that he had murdered another man in order to gain it. He held great power and all the people around feared him. Only he knew the secret of fire. Not far away was a large black cave. On the inside of the cave some faded scrawlings were painted on the wall with a green dye. They said H2046 . . . the end . Far away was the beginning of another civilization. In contrast, this tribe was peaceful and happy. On a large stone wall near the village a code of laws was heavily etched. The top line ran THOU SHALT NOT KILL . Beside this was written THANK GOD! WE STILL HAVE HOPEP. The sun shone brightly. Michael Smith Peace is the one thing we all need. Not just the peace which comes with the end of war, but peace of mind. Peace is time: time to think, time to love, time to live. Peace is to be able to talk without having to shout above the voices of others. Peace is being young. Peace is being alive and thinking you are going to live forever. Peace is living, really living, not just existing. It is doing what you really want to do the most. Peace is spending a day in the country, away from the hustle and bustle and rat-race of the city. Peace is spending a Sunday in the sun. Peace is listening to the birds and the voices of nature, rather than to the voice of some preacher. Peace is sleeping in the arms of your lover, smelling the sweetness of her hair. feeling her warmth and softness next to you. Peace is being able to speak your mind, and knowing you won't be persecuted for your beliefs. Peace is knowing that your children will have the best you can give them. Peace is Life. Peace is Love. Peace is Death. May you rest in Peace. Geoff Kinnear twenty-seven