I love this writer…Lorraine at blindwilderness.wordpress.com
And so now I’ve been told
It’s alright to cry
For far too long
I have held my tears
I must let them go
No longer keep them captive
Release them from their prison
Not in my eyes
But in my heart
Sometimes I think
That if I were to cry
I would cry for ever
For grief has been my life
Yet still I smile
For me it was the better way
For if my tears were to flow
They would be like the rivers
Pouring from the temple
But golden like the temple
Leading me to Jerusalem
The Eternal City
Another victim of the virus panic…
The college that I went to might be closing, more specifically the campus of the college that I went to might be closing. While many of the smaller colleges in Vermont have been struggling with declining enrollment, this has been exacerbated by the economic impact of COVID-19. This would, in effect, put all of my past professors out of work, as well as some beloved friends that are part of the staff there, and it would turn what was once the lively place of my higher education into a ghost town. It would displace students and would likely either move them out of state, or for some remove them from college all together.
Vermont Tech is the only technical college in Vermont and the Randolph location is geographically central to the entirety of Vermont and more closely resembles the “rural” landscape of Vermont. The proposed closures would result…
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I’ve written a bit about how the ability to be flexible in this situation is what keeps you sane and functioning. That hasn’t changed in the last month, as we have no idea where we’re going. I seem to have gotten to a complacent level of that though as at this point I don’t really care very much. I’m along for the ride and we can’t get off the ship anyways. If it was somewhere cooler that would be great. Those unfamiliar with the weather in the Philippines it is either 90+ degrees and insanely humid or raining. There doesn’t seem to be a lot in between.
My only other request would be that wherever we go after Manila new crew are able to come in (like Stuart’s replacement – no, we don’t know when he is coming), and that crew (and us) are able to get flights home.
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Let’s not fight when the sun goes down and the shades are drawn.
Wouldn’t you rather call back the tender fury, the passion that we once wore?
Time was on our side and ever so trusting I gave me to you
only to be lost, a forlorn girl standing on the edge of nevermore.
Drew back the covers, flesh ablaze, unashamed, nothing to hide,
fell in love, lost my head, I was so sure.
Recreate the euphoria of that first night, devouring each other
between the worn cotton sheets on my antique bed.
Use your fingertips to chase away the years of struggling
the hurt and the anger that screams wild as savage beasts inside our heads.
Play make-believe, pretend that it’s yesterday
and the bitter deeds did not destroy the tenderness instead.
Pursue me like there’s no tomorrow because I can not see beyond today
then, when tomorrow comes…
I promise to set you free, stand on my own two feet, find my own way.
Hands could caress, bodies could recreate, satisfy this insane yearning
as you travel back with me, waltz me back through past’s gate.
Touch my soul once more with longing and desire, force the winds of change
to stand stationary while you re-ignite my skin’s desire.
What would I give to travel back and never have been betrayed?
I scarce remember when there were no walls
and I did not know how to be afraid.
Perhaps tonight you could help me to forget to remember if I promise that
I won’t run away when the dawn comes, I won’t run away. No…not yet.
We could try, one more time, again. What could we lose, what could we win?
Cradle me in your arms and recapture me with reckless hunger,
pretend thirty years have not transpired.
It would be so easy because fingertips have no memories and
they don’t know how to hate, they will pursue passion’s flagrant fire
unlike a broken heart which hesitates.
No movement forward from here so we could journey back to then
before the illusions were shattered and we could try, one more time, again.
One more time again, as if you read my mind.
Still, the heat that rises in my loins concedes to grief, collapses beneath regret
too wise to be enchanted, too stupid to forget.
Good-bye. No, wait…not yet. Maybe we could try…one more time, again.