A Poem

By Evan Pausic speak the language of flowers remember when your mother's hand touched your sickly forehead  the world watches  and is blind  I can see the top a snow capped mountain we only know the outlines of what we see I see the flower in fire on the terrace  I see the flower  shining … Continue reading A Poem

Last Day

This morning we've dispersed along this mountainside in order to say goodbye for now to our home away from home. There is always a certain heaviness that characterizes this final day in Agora.  We started our morning with a few sun salutations that faced the snow caps. As we stretched, women walked by with baskets … Continue reading Last Day


By Kelsey English Up in Agora, I look down at the jagged rocky paths that are woven throughout the side of the mountain, connecting each terrace to the ones above and below. Along those paths are countless women carrying heavy baskets full of natural fertilizer on their backs. Today I was one of those women. … Continue reading Choice