Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

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He had no mouth with which to speak, but somewhere within him a warmer fire kindled and thawed the pain within his mind, and as the stars softened in his eyes, his body was at last allowed to sleep. Jose awoke next morning with the appearance of the sun’s first rays. He sat up and looked across the vast stretch of broken shale, and then at the battered and bruised body that was his own. Yet, sore as he was, it was a beautiful morning, clear, blue, with not a cloud in the sky. The pikas chirped and birds spilled out songs for a new day. All the beauties of the new morning lifted Jose ' s spirit to a height it had never known. The mountain was as ordinary as any mountain might be, yet this morning even the broken shale felt good underneath the feet. “I will bless the hills for all of my life and you, dear mountain, you I will remember well. But it is time that I must go, for I know it is time to harvest the corn.”

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saw a appear to be weak if he sought reconciliation, an ±£d hejwent on for several unpleasant hours until, much to his relief, the tree£ became smaller and fewer as the altitude increased. Somehow as the plants Became smaller they wielded less authority. ¥ ' At last Jose found himself crossing a final stretch of wind dwarfed trees which would give way to close-grown Alpine gras| Kin-nich. “Ah! I’ll soon be there. The,sun is sinking to catch Jmy ey I know I’m coming there. ' % m In the last colours of evening, the man was climbing the rise Of the last crest. The grass had since given way to shale, and the going became tougher, but Jose picked his way determinedly, using all four limbs when he needed them. His goal was in sight and he knew hecould make it. — He looked up into the evening planet and kept his direction the final moment when he pulled himself onto the top of the mountain. At first, when his body demanded too much of his attention, he notice how different a mountain it was. But as the heaving of his body less, and as he looked about him to find what he had come to look realized that the top of the mountain was as perfectly smooth and flat any marble slab. “How strange it is,” he thought, and while he looked upon streaks of moon-light, the air chewed through his body. Then he caught first glimpse of understanding, for he saw lurking underneath the transpare surface gleaming bones and banners of past men. All about him lay signs effects of civilizations he could never have known or comprehended. The surface seemed endless, and its hard covering kept him permanently apart from all that lay beneath his feet, and yet, when he tried to go back to a spot where he had been before, only new instruments and symbols lay there. All he could do was stagger across the surface helplessly, aghast at what he saw. But, even as he could identify nothing of what he saw, he knew by some deep intuitive insight that in everything before him lay dreams and visions possessed by past and present men - dreams and visions that might have launched the world ahead 100,000 years, but now were sterile and un- possessed by man, until in the fields of individual men’s minds they would be dug up once more, and the old would become new. Shaking, Jose knelt on the surface and breathed, “Oh! God, please help me! ‘For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: . . . now I know in part: but then shall I know even as also I am known.”’. A soft caressing wind soothed his quaking and spoke softly in his ear: “To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.” .. . “Hold fast to dreams For if they die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly.” . . .

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Meadows Glimpses of crystalline fantasies Projecting Infinity’s furthest span Flash, blinding, and then are gone . . . Desperately, I feel curtains drawing Shut, shadows drowning light, Left brooding in a mood of mystic sadness, With senses dwarfed by unanswered questions I look, once more to see. Far below, a road trickles among green meadows, Bridges blue mirrors and lazes on. A young child fondles the turbulent waters - And wondering at mysterious motion, Follows fallen boughs away. Past the quiet green luxuriance They together travelling go, past Where the aged man sits, staring, Alone, his wizened face gnarled in pain. Remembrance of forgotten visions has Driven him backthrough the depths of time, Back to a place, once known, forgotten Where dreams were life and life was dreams; When time and space were stilled in awe of This splendid celebration Of Life . . . Somewhere in that misty past Rests the image of another child playing, Innocently playing, in this same water, Puzzled by these strange phenomena And challenged by this earth.