Remembering the Magic We packed bags of dreams, junk food, and clothes, and set out for Pennsylvania. They called it a "retreat," but four consonants, three vowels can't capture six days of truly living. We bled Mountain Dew and grass stains, lived for running and jumping, and being whole. Being young. We found shortcuts through the woods and ran through with bobbing glow sticks under a full moon. We covered ourselves in war paint-- mud and shaving cream And we would always sing songs of praise, sometimes hand-in-hand amongst the burning spotlights of the stage, but mostly through shouts and laughs of jubilation. They asked us to challenge our thoughts, to believe in the unbelievable. We congregated on stone steps one night to put faith in the unseen. The last night brought tears as we exchanged handshakes and parting words. And under another brilliant moon, I filled a glass jar with fireflies in my head. Memories, glowing brightly. ...
Where I write longer things....