Unfinished Manuscript
Somewhere lives a buried name
Now but dust
But still…
Searching has its pluses
Hidden answers
Tethered to one’s eyes
Play hide and seek
While each micro film flickers history
Genealogy trees rejoice
Their pages
Like withered leaves
Bathe in precious light
From lamp and window
Picture books
Their sepia to black and white images
Crowd each sheet
Wanting so to be recognized
Yes
Searching has its pluses
How patient the tools employed
Such carefully chronicled pasts
Housed somewhere amidst dust of years
Knowing our loneliness
Knowing how pain aches for its identity
Lingering among the abandoned
The orphaned
The adopted
Their DNA needing but one connection
One match
One partner
To dance the night away
Where music never heard before
Might make harmony of dissonant notes
‘Til now forever lost to the unfinished manuscript
Somewhere lives a buried name
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subject..some can handle better than others;
those involved are often seen as victims;
i'm impressed by the use of 'buried name'
john
I wonder if my cousin, Jeffrey Hull, adopted as a baby in San Francisco, knows who his birth parents were. It is strange that Steve Jobs knew who his father was, but never contacted him.