The Impermanence We Are

 

It seems

our own impermanence is concealed from us

The trees stand firm, the houses we live in are still there. We alone

flow past it all, an exchange of air.

Everything conspires to silence us,

partly with shame,

partly with unspeakable hope.

- Rainer Maria Rilke, From the Second Duino Elegy

And here, I believe, is why I am so fascinated with old buildings

wondering who once wandered through their halls

I always want to know the dates and the history hidden within

As people come and go and styles often change 

as depression breaks free to light 

and death and joy intertwine and dance along a very thin line

the buildings still remain. 

Walking through the doorway of an old building is like 

a secret window into the past

Traveling as a child and touring palaces and castles that still last

I pretended I was really there. Walking through my home.

And still today I rarely pass a plaque outside a building 

or along the road

without stopping to read and imagine what it must have been like

standing there so long ago.

And it is because of this that I am mesmerized 

by buildings and photographs alike

one has seen it all pass by,

the other has frozen it in time.

Photographs taken by Carin Davis in Central Park.