Monday, By Edgar
The bell was rung and everyone gathered around the big room table. In the beginning of morning meeting Sarah raised her hand and then talked about how she had a sleepover with her fellow eighty girls. A week before she had a story read about how she couldn’t understand two of her classmates whom she was friends with, and in one of the scenes she wrote she was at a sleepover and wasn’t feeling happy with her friends. Now she is talking about how she had a great time and how she was dressed up and how they all gave each other “makeovers”. Sarah explained how she felt comfortable and how she is more understanding then she used to be. Others felt like Sarah was more open, but still was herself.
Claire talked about how she too had a sleepover at the Martins, Bryn and Reed’s house. She talked about watching “The Sound of Music” and how Bryn was joyful and enthusiastic.
Jessie went to Connecticut with her father and learned about Lyme disease at a twelve-hour meeting/conference. She didn’t feel bored the entire time and came back with new knowledge she had never heard about. While she was there she bonded with her father and had a great time. During the meeting/conference she listened to an older man be accused of treating his patients wrong when he was just trying to do the right thing. Jessie went into detail about how she felt bad for the man and saw how he was treating his patients with care and respect.
Simon talked about how he was feeling overwhelmed about a science project and decided to play the piano. He claimed he wasn’t playing it correctly but Claire thought otherwise. When Claire walked in she started telling Simon that the music was great and how she thought that it was cool that he was playing at school. Simon then told the school, that this made him feel happy and closer to Claire.
Anneke found out that there were twenty days left at school and felt sad that the ninth graders were leaving. And he wanted to explain how she would miss us. She then explained how she wasn’t sure if she was ready to become a ninth grader,
“It will be weird not having anyone ahead of us,” she said.
Yared then pulled out his poem and read it, and he said that it was for the ninth graders. The poem was about how the ninth graders are leaving and how each year when a ninth grader leaves, he or she is replaced. In the poem it explained how a tree falls and its years of life fall when it falls, but each tree stump has another tree grow inside of it. This is the point of leaving. We, the ninth graders, pass on our knowledge to the seventh and eighth graders before we go and they continue the cycle, and that is how life and the school works.
The rest of the school day: in science class we started to learn about the birds and the bees. Eric decided to finally teach us about the human body. So after many years of waiting Eric decided to stay true to his word. Eric chose to teach us through a fun learning-filled way. We are going to write songs, or create skits about the body. Some groups decided to create skits of a science class with a boring nasal teacher telling them about the body and having some kids crack jokes about this while the teacher is talking. While some decided to create and sing a song about parents telling their kid or kids about life. Over the course of these classes there was lots of laughter and excitement but there was also confusion and respect.
“WE have to be respectful, but we also need to have open humor about it, we’re 12-15 year olds!” said Henry Birdsey
In All Tal class Tal asked if people were going to step it up and become ninth and eighth graders while the current ninth graders are on the hike. Rider talked about how Tal and Rider talked about Mother’s day. He mentioned how he gave is mom a card with a horse on it; and how inside he wrote about Asher Lev. He connected his mom to Asher’s mom. He saw how Asher’s mom is trying to help Asher have something concrete. Rider explained why he made the card; he said it was because he sees his mother creating something concrete for his family and he was/is grateful. Tal asked what he was trying to say. Rider replied, "I want her to know I love her."
“Now did Rider step it up just now,” Tal asked.
“Yes,” everyone replied. Now we all just have to do so.
“It’s a chance to decide if you are going to be productive next year,” someone said.
Tal then read Anna’s story about whom she liked and how she was afraid to express her feelings but she did. She was very brave doing so. She showed something the school didn’t know about her. She liked a boy in the school; she showed it at times and was shy when near him. Se wanted to be Luna Lovegood, a character from Harry Potter, someone who was outrageous and showed her feelings to everyone. Her story was about how she left the shy girl behind and became who she really wanted to be. Anna accomplished something great. She was scared to tell him her feelings and knew that he liked someone else. She had many opportunities and she didn’t use them, she realized this and kept on telling herself that she would. And eventually she did. She overcame something hard and she did the right thing. She expressed her love.
TUESDAY, by Edgar
Anna started morning meeting by talking about how she chatted with Hannah, and she thanked Hannah for telling her her (anna’s) story was good. Hannah told Anna that she wants to be better friends and get to know Anna more.
Tal somehow got into a rant about putting knowledge into the bank, in a metaphorical sense. Tal asked if we were putting everything into the bank or if we were just letting it fly by. To me it seemed as if Tal was asking or doing so to get us prepared for the upcoming weeks for when we will be talking about glass onions. And what is to be happening next year.
Nathan talked about his brother is leaving for college and Johan his friend/ exchange student is going to be leaving. Nathan talked about how this relates to his story and how he will miss his brother and “Brother”, Johan. Tal told Nathan to talk to Lydia about this subject as Lydia has two siblings in college.
I read a poem by Edgar Allen Poe,
Evening Star
'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in
Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.
—Edgar Allan Poe
Hannah presented a great project about Sierra Leone in which I learned a lot about blood diamonds, the Civil War in Sierra Leone, and what it is like for the people to have to have gone through terrible things. Basically, her project was about Dystopia. Hannah asked us what we would choose if we were told we would loose a limb or kill children, women and men by decapitation, without knowing this is what lies ahead. All we know is that we will be joining terrorist like groups. It was scary to think about. But not all hope was lost. Hannah told us about the Sierra Leone football club (Soccer for those American type). The game is like normal soccer but only those with missing legs or arms can play. The game is like normal football, it consists of two teams. All positions are the same as regular football players are missing a leg and use crutches to run while keepers are missing an arm or hand. The game has been a big hope for those who thought they could no longer play after they had lost limbs in the Civil War.
Step-Up Day for the Weekly Email (7th and eighth graders at school for Wednesday/Thursday
Written by Miles Waldron
Wednesday
Wednesday was the first day that the ninth graders were on their annual hike and the sevies and eighties were left at the school alone with Eric. We all sat up at the table and began morning meeting, Rider took charge and sat in Tal’s chair, squeaking back and forth.
“I was thinking of the ninth graders and felt really happy for them,” someone said.
“I was talking to Rose this morning and she was really nervous but after a while she felt better.”
“Yesterday I was talking to a 5 year old friend of mine about the universe, it was really interesting that I could talk to other people about that kind of thing”
“Yesterday I had a good time biking with Rider, Anneke and Britta.”
“After Hannah’s project the other day on Sierra Leone and the diamond trade. I was thinking that people would do almost anything to get a shiny little pebble. Greed can sometimes be so de-humanizing”
Then Jesse read, “As I Ponder’d in Silence” by Walt Whitman.
1
As I ponder’d in silence,
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me, with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said;
Know’st thou not, there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?
And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles,
The making of perfect soldiers?
2
Be it so, then I answer’d,
I too, haughty Shade, also sing war—and a longer and greater one than
any,
Waged in my book with varying fortune—with flight, advance, and
retreat—Victory deferr’d and wavering,
(Yet, methinks, certain, or as good as certain, at the last,)—The
field the world;
For life and death—for the Body, and for the eternal Soul,
Lo! too am come, chanting the chant of battles,
I, above all, promote brave soldiers.
Then Eric talked about us the sevies and the eighties. He said that our culture celebrates certain turning points in people’s lives like when someone turns 18 or 21. But looking back on his life Eric said that those weren’t really the turning points, the real times are seventh through ninth grade. The eight graders are in the middle of it and I (Eric) can see the adult part in people like Rider, Aylee, Sarah and Anna. “But we all have to be totally in the moment.”
Then he went on to say that all of the ninth grade science classes are really good. This year’s ninth graders don’t have a bad case of ninth-gradeitis, a common disease among ninth graders that induces heavy bouts of slacking and spasms of not-caring-because-we’re-are-leaving.
He also talked about some attitude and mind-set of a certain student in the school. “I clearly see you growing, but I want to see you leap” and, “When people get behind they scramble to catch up, and the quality of their work goes down a lot.”
After that morning meeting Eric instructed us to “Rip out the paper carefully” and “Write a letter to yourselves about things that you have liked about yourself, like about yourself and want to like about yourself.” We all went to work, writing letters to ourselves that Eric will send to us in 10 to 12 years. The room was silent, a few whispers here and there “Dude, you are so messed.” One boy quietly jokes to another. Eric gives us a good lesson on stamps, letters and addressing envelopes.
Onward to the first activity of the day, the beginning of our Utopia cities/communities/places. Eric told us to research a Utopia society and base or place off it. A bunch of people tumbled outside to start a community on part of the nature trail. Others stayed inside to research their place. There was the bustle of getting tools, raking the paths, setting up territory, and building the beginnings of a Utopia. For the next two hours or so everyone was working, laughing, eating lunch, and having fun in the wonderful spring weather.
“Don’t use plywood,” was uttered by Eric to forgetful students at least a dozen times.
Each place was based off someone’s project from the year so far:
Main St. USA: Hannah, Lydia, Aylee, Rider, Claire, Oliver-- Based on Henry's project on the 60s and the 70s.
Sherwood Inc.: Henry, Isabel, Edgar, Anna, Reed Ma, Miles, Jesse--Based on Quakers & Humanism
Causa: Cassie, Reed Me, Evan, Rio, Calder, Sophie, Luke---Based on Reed Ma’s project on Koinania Farms/Partners
The Renaissance: Nate, Bryne, Sarah, Simon, Kiley, Anneke, Yared--Based on Reed Me’s project on The Renaissance
The next activity was to answer questions on a sheet. The questions ranged from: “If you were going to be stuck on a desert island with one book of poetry, which of the following authors would you want it to be?” to “In which of the following would you choose to live:” All of the questions were multiple choice and we were to answer the question based on what we thought our ninth graders would have thought we would say. The day before they had written down their guesses of what we would pick and if we guessed the correct one then we would get ‘one checkmark’. It was a test of how well our ninth graders knew us and how well we knew them. The results are in percentage:
Main St: Winner with 59%
Renaissance: #2 with 52%
Sherwood inc.: #3 with 46%
Causa: #4 with 42%
To wrap up the day, the groups took part in a competition created by Hannah and Lydia, specifically designed for their team to win. It was a fashion show, with the ‘clothes’ made only of natural materials found in the nearby woods. We were given half an hour to find all the materials we needed and create a costume. After our half hour was up we piled into the Big Room and everyone did his or her model walk on the Big Room table. Eric videotaped the whole thing, even when Riders costume exploded (no students were injured).
Thursday
Again we piled into the Big Room and crowded around the table.
“I felt that yesterday, Rider was a ninth grader”
“The other night I was talking to my dad about Hannah’s project about greed and de-humanization and I had a really good time talking with him.”
“Lately Hannah and I have been emailing each other about things that we love and I have been feeling a lot closer to her. We have been telling each other all of the big things and the small things”
Everyone had a really good time yesterday working on the Utopias.
Then Simon read two poems, “The City” and “Ionic” both by Cavafy
"The City"
By C. P. Cavafy
You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore,
Find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
And my heart lies buried like something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
Where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”
You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You’ll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there’s no ship for you, there’s no road.
Now that you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world.
Ionic
By C.P. Cavafy
That we’ve broken their statues,
that we’ve driven them out of their temples,
doesn’t mean at all that the gods are dead.
O land of Ionia, they’re still in love with you,
their souls still keep your memory.
When an August dawn wakes over you,
your atmosphere is potent with their life,
and sometimes a young ethereal figure,
indistinct, in rapid flight,
wings across your hills.
Eric then instructed us to write down things that we felt were either an issue from yesterday or something that was good that happened. After a few minutes of intense scribbling we all were assigned jobs to do outside; fill potholes, work on the bread oven roof and work on our garden.
After that we all competed in a competition made by ninth graders Henry, Isabel and Edgar. This particular contest was designed so that the team Sherwood Inc. would have the best chance at winning. There were four parts, made specifically for the four team-members Anna, Reed Ma, Jesse and me (Miles). The first challenge was for the team to set up the projector as fast as they could to show a movie. When movie is projecting and sound is playing the timer stops. They weren’t allowed to do anything that might harm any equipment. This part was designed for me because I was probably the most technological savvy person in the room.
All the teams scurried around plugging in cords, pushing buttons and all the while everyone was yelling, singing or screaming.
Renaissance: 2 min 40 sec;
Sherwood Inc.: 3 min 44 sec;
Causa: 8 min 5 sec;
Main St USA: more than 10 minutes
Next we had to pick one person on our team to do a ballet move. This section was created so that the only practiced ballerina in the school, Anna, would win. After a few moments of discussion and practice the ballerinas performed.
Sherwood Inc -- "Balancé" by Anna;
Causa -- "Indebouler" by Sophie;
Renaissance -- "Plié en Point" by Sarah
Main St. USA -- "Arabesque" by Rider
Next we were to write down all the information we had as a group about any one specific disease – no books or Internet allowed. This one was designed for Jesse because the week before she had attended a 12 hour-long lecture on Lyme disease with her dad.
Sherwood Inc: "Lyme Disease"
Renaissance: "Ebola" a very close second...
Main St. USA: "Mad Cow Disease"
Causa: "Mesothelioma"
To wrap up the contest we were to sing a song taught at a local elementary school – the entire team must sing. This part was for Reed Ma who knew a lots of different songs from her time at the Lincoln School.
Main St. USA with "Twas Friday Night"
Sherwood Inc. with "One Bottle of Pop"
Renaissance with " Morning Town"
Causa with " This Land is Your Land"
The following competition was created for The Renaissance by Nate and Bryn. ‘Write a poem by yourself in your own separate places in the woods for 10 minutes. Your poem should be about a small thing that you are looking at in the woods. When Eric rings the bell, your group will come together. You will then have 20 minutes to combine your poems into one. You must use at least 2 lines from each individual's poems.’ We did this and the ninth graders will be judging them on Monday.
Here are the poems:
Poem #1:
had it once been a wonder,
a bird watching its mother fly,
one small pin prick,
from the never ending patterns,
am I greater than the dead?
Don't follow me into the rain
where the glittering water
will cling
to my one beat pulse.
Am I dead,
truly dead
trying to see
the problems in falling
down to touch the small tender plant
but they don't pay me any attention
for I am the revolver.
Poem #2
Why do we reach?
color piercing my clouded vision
I look closely, letting my eyes blur,
focus,
then blur again
fingers stretching up from a barrier
a fallen tree, roots reaching to the sky
A crazy intertwinement of life beating with green simplicity
why do we reach
with so many fingers
touching shadows
seeming lost.
they stretch to the gentle blue
held forever in existence
catch soft fragrance filling me
the world is a black and white,
disguised in color
keeping the silence
making the ripples last
this is the closest I can get.
Poem #3
The birds sing in the distance,
Searching for something, someone,
Days go, fluttering by on
Starched wings, flapping drunkenly,
because maybe they are happy too.
You are innocent as a child,
the little flower, the shining world,
what do you know of life?
The blue sky makes me laugh,
and the sun makes me think.
But is it perfect?
Grey rocks, white rocks-
they blend together, none like the other,
but each the same.
A square packet flapping,
proclaiming organic,
when all it does is fade,
the sky, itself, the grass-
we are tearing down, as we build up.
But still we know,
from the woman laughing, hair stirred,
the child, inquisitive eyes wide,
the old man, who raises his head,
and goes on,
for so much longer,
with so much more.
Poem #4
A life of change
Cowering before its conqueror
Shaking without love
Among the behemoths
Dancing over broken glass
Blood splattered yet beautiful
Something so terrible
Something so dazzling
A golden glow is evident
Yet is goes unnoticed,
By the bees who bring you death
Death that allows you to change
Ripen red and sweet.
You can call death a weed
But you only have to look
To know it isn't true.
Then to wrap up the day we all watched the movie “Green Fried Tomatoes” and ate chocolate ordered from Koinania Partners.
Wednesday, On the Hike (Day one) (by Edgar)
We all arrived at the trailhead and started to load up the food. Mia, after handing us all the food, fell backwards as to give us an assurance that this is going to be real easy. Over the course of the day every one of us talked to each other and walked alone for part of the hike. The day was beautiful and back wrenching. We arrived at the camp about an hour or two earlier then the previous groups of ninth graders before us. At camp we set up the sleeping bags and pads and hammock. Yes, there was a hammock. Nathan decided to bring his father’s hammock and stretch it across Lydia, Reed and myself. I was hesitant of Nathan falling on me for a reason: it happened. Luckily it was just my legs and it wasn’t high up. The nail Nathan had hung on end up on turned to release the weight. Later Nathan fixed the hammock so as it would not fall. Since we had time to kill before dinner and bed we decided to play some games. One game was were you say a word that is basically two words put together. You then must create a word from the last part of the word before and the person to not find a word loses. We played this for a while until everyone was in then it eventually died down. Later that evening there was a new game in which you create sentences by having people go around in a circle and say a word that goes with what has already been said. Here are some examples of what we created.
Hiking, happily, in, forests, in, outer, Mongolia, however, my, hair, allows, Lydia, to, Eat, noodles.
Fire, Burns, Evil, loud, boys, except, our, stick, which, we, will, sharpen, at, coolly, glen, shelter. No, one, survives, except, meditating, wolverines, and, wonderful, loving, Chris.
Later Tal had us summarize how our day was through three words, here they are:
Long trail moose-crap
Separated in swamp
Climbing happy fire
Joyful bullying cozy
Wet tired rejoice
Mud voices, smoke
Mia’s homemade jerky
Love supple swamp
Noise laughter love
Filtration purity brook
Poem view firs
Listening Reed’s laughter
Rainless rocks serenity
Silly sublime sore
After dinner Tal told us the story of the Goshen man. And we went to bed with laughter and conversations of how/ what we feel through questions. At five in the morning people started to stir thinking it was six by the amount of light outside. Half an hour later I decided to start a fire because it was so cold. A couple of people agreed, with one small misinterpretation. Five minutes later Rose walked from the bathroom and started to help with the fire. Right when the fire was at a blaze Tal arose from a path with a stern face. “You guys, its five thirty in the morning! Go back to bed!” he said while making angry hand gestures. “Oh crud,” I thought. I let the fire die down as everyone went back to bed. Later when it was actually time to get up Tal explained why he was so grumpy but also that he had to be somewhat nice because we were, after all, starting a fire.
Day #2 on the Hike, By Bryn
I woke to the sound of Edgar’s loud whisper on the other side of the Cooley Glen Shelter. My feet were cold on the bottom of my sleeping bag and I tried to curl my feet closer together to retain some heat. My eyes were heavy, but I sat up anyway and the air was freezing. The sun hadn’t yet risen and I wondered how early it was.
“Edgar, what time is it?” I asked. I heard others stirring around, but I couldn’t see any of their faces because the sleeping bags were pulled all across their bodies.
“Edgar, go to sleep.” I heard someone say.
“I’m going to start a fire.” Edgar said and was out of his sleeping bag and to the pit of charred logs from the night before.
“Edgar, it’s 5:30.” I heard Lydia say with her head sticking up out of the sleeping bag. Edgar came back to his sleeping bag and I laid back and listened to the soft breathing of my fellow 9th graders lull me to sleep again. The next thing I heard was Tal’s voice and cool hair floating in through my sleeping bag.
“It’s 7:25,” He said and I slowly sat up as the cold air flowed over my head and the sun shinned brightly all around the shelter. I watched as a film was across my eyes started to clear and Tal started to pour water into the metal pot. Smoke rose from the newly made fire and everyone started to groan and move around me looking at the fire with bleary eyes. In a slow daze we all got up with our hair in every which way and blowing on our fingers to keep warm. We all moved sluggishly for a while until the water was boiling and Chai and oatmeal with blueberries (that Mia so thoughtfully brought along) were being consumed and then we were happier, moving with more of a sting in our steps. It is the second day, the hardest day, we had all been told by Tal, 8.5 miles and up hill most of the way, rocky and snowy and eating while standing up on the trail. It was the day were there were amazing views and cliffs to climb with just the packs on our backs.
“Leave no trace!” Tal kept saying and we only half listened, smiling to ourselves as we packed up. Finally we were all packed up our backpacks lined up along the bottom of the shelter. Tal passed around the bag of poems and we each took the one that we picked for the second day of the hike. 13 poems, Walt Whitman, T.S Elliot, Rumi, E.E Cummings, Bill Waterson, all trying to say the same but different things. To love the things more then we fully understand and to be able to let go and also hang on so hard.
The beginning we went straight up along slippery rocks and broke thin ice covering muddy puddles, the sun was so bright and shone onto the smooth veins of small leaves. We stepped over many fallen trees and tripped over our feet and laughed as we looked in each other’s eyes. There was a time when I was alone, a group behind me and a group in the front. I couldn’t hear anything, I wasn’t sure where I was, I didn’t know even if I was on the right trail and the only way for me to know I wasn’t lost were the tracks of the hiking boots left on the dry rocks. I stood for a moment as I reached the top and I could hear both groups, all of the laughter and talking and I was in the middle surrounded by everything I ever wanted. As I reached the top the wind blew harder and the smiles were brighter and closer, I was with them again. We hiked down together in a line, closer now, watching the feet in front of us, showing each other the right path down the steep rocks. Just keep going,, we had to say to each other, talking and also silence, the enjoyment of grins and memories that we forgot we ever had. We finally got to Skylight Pond at 5:30; we pulled off our hot, wet hiking boots and looked at the smooth pond. The day got slowly darker around us. All of the 9th graders hiked up to the view above the cabin, the rocks that seemed to look over everything. We sat in a line, stretches of pale pinks across the mountains that were vividly blue. The wind was strong and we picked the pine needle off of the little pine trees and threw them into the gusts and they flew back at us against a sky that would never forget.
We hiked back after that, to Annie’s mac and cheese and pesto pasta made by Rose and Mia. Tal made a fire outside of the cabin and we all sat around, close, but not too close. We smiled and stared at the smoke swirling up above our heads, reading out loud from the log book of the cabin and laughing so hard it was hard to stop. We eventually went back into the cabin and lay next to each other and I felt like I was one of the last to fall asleep, because I didn't want to forget the warm, soft breathing that surrounded me with some sort of non-explainable joy that resonated in my bones and I feel asleep without meaning to close my eyes in the darkness.
Day #3 on the Hike, By Bryn
I woke up on Friday morning to the fog outside of the small window and the breathing of the people I loved around me and I remembered that it was always the last day; it was truly the end now. The air was cold even in the cabin, but the warmth of the bodies around me gave me some sort of comfort. We all had cups of hot chocolate, instant oats and one blueberry each. The day was wet, but not raining, we were sitting in a cloud and as we went outside to find our hiking boots soggy from sitting out in the rain. More packing, slowly. It was the last day, only 5 miles, it was harder today though because we after all were tired and the day seemed wetter then it had any other day so far. I looked out at the pond and could barely see the other side and somehow that made we feel warmer, surrounded by something warm. We all stood around in the cabin and spilling out in the porch. It was the last poems of the three days, we all knew it was almost the end; we were still striving to end this time and this year. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the voices float into me and make me remember what they said and the familiar sounds that meant so much. We started off again, up and then mostly down. Tal told stories of his past life, of his mentor, Bernie, and as we stopped for lunch, a man running from Middlebury College was running and stopped to talk for a second. Tal said that he was the first person they had seen in on the trail in four years.
The sun finally came out and I could see everything was brighter and more beautiful then I ever remembered, I started to hold on tighter to the people around me, getting closer to their feet as I walked because I wanted to know that everything was ending. As we walked down the end of the trail in silence I saw the beauty of my class and it wasn’t hard to say how much they have always kept me moving. As we stumbled out of the trail I saw every face of all the 9th graders as bright beacons of wonder and love. As we walked across the concrete road and to the sign across from us. We sat in front of the sign and it finally sunk it, that it was the end, that we were so strong, so wonderfully together in that moment. Tal turned to all of us and told us he had to read one last thing, for the end, we had to hear this. It was by T.S Elliot out of his book Four Quartets.
Home is where one starts from.
As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in very moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is not nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter
Old men ought to be explorers
Here and there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise
In my end is my beginning
No comments:
Post a Comment