Stop worrying where you’re going, move on
If you can know where you’re going, you’ve gone
Just keep moving on.
I chose, and my world was shaken–so what?
The choice may have been mistaken
but choosing was not.
You have to move on.
Look at what you want,
Not at where you are,
Not at what you’ll be.
Look at all the things you’ve done for me:
Opened up my eyes
Taught me how to see
Notice every tree!
Understand the light!
Concentrate on now!
I want to move on . . .
I want to explore the light. I want to know how to get through
through to something new–
Something of my own!
Move on!
Move on!
Stop worrying if your vision is new.
Let others make that decision . . .
they usually do!
You keep moving on.
Look at what you want,
Not at what you are
Not at what you’ll be
Look at all the things you gave to me.
See what’s in my eyes, And the color of my hair,
and the way it catches light.
And the care, and the feeling
And the light, moving on!
We’ve always belonged together.
We will always belong together!
Just keep moving on.
Anything you do, let it come from you–
then it will be new.
Give us more to see.
(Move On, from Sunday in the Park with George, by Stephen Sondheim)
After attendingthreeweddings in as many months, it’s no surprise that this poem caught my attention in Marian’s fb notes. Then again, it might be due to the echoes of the clinking of cutlery on glasses…
So let us map out Jeffrey McDaniel’s
The Archipelago of Kisses
We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don’t
grow on trees, like in the old days.
So where does one find love?
When you’re sixteen it’s easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses.
There’s the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn’t be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you’d quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss.
As you get older, kisses become scarce.
You’ll be driving home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out.
If you were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s
red door just to see how it fits.
Oh where does one find love?
If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what?
Don’t invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It’ll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don’t water the kiss with whiskey.
It’ll turn bright pink and explode
into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye, and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth.
You must nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights.
Notice how it illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue’s pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I’ll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
Some passions, no matter how impractical they may seem, you just cannot live without.
This summer, I’m time-traveling to where I felt most alive.
As if we never said goodbye
I don’t know why I’m frightened
I know my way around here
The cardboard trees, the painted scenes, the sound here… Yes, a world to rediscover
But I ‘m not in any hurry
And I need a moment
The whispered conversations in overcrowded hallways
The atmosphere as thrilling here as always
Feel the early morning madness
Feel the magic in the making
Why, everything’s as if we never said goodbye
I’m coming out of make-up
The lights already burning
Not long until the cameras will start turning…
And the early morning madness
And the magic in the making
Yes, everything’s as if we never said goodbye
I don’t want to be alone
That’s all in the past This world’s waited long enough
I’ve come home at last!
And this time will be bigger
And brighter than we knew it So watch me fly, we all know I can do it…
Could I stop my hand from shaking?
Has there ever been a moment
With so much to live for?
The whispered conversations in overcrowded hallways
So much to say not just today but always…
We’ll have early morning madness
We’ll have magic in the making
Yes, everything’s as if we never said goodbye
Yes, everything’s as if we never said goodbye…
We taught the world new ways to dream!
So the Holy Week found me all over Northern Luzon again. A couple of days in Tarlac for my Mama’s 60th birthday, a stopover at Manila for work, then off Thursday 4am to a new frontier: Maddela, Quirino Povince, Cagayan Valley. Ten hours via bus and van. If only bus liners had frequent flyer miles…
This summer college camp is my fifth up NorthI; I’ve lost count of the total in the past 8 years. I went there as a visitor, with no specific job description, in the hopes of observing instead of being in the frontlines. Since some of the counselors were unable to make it at the last minute, we four visiting dignitaries (MayKC on their honeymoon and JE) ended up pitching in.
In the span of 2 days, I found myself co-facilitating a session on Love, Courtship and Marriage, dancing during Banquet Night, chopping tomatoes, helping out with a cultural simulation, being hugged a lot, sharing how the campers can contribute to missions, attacking a lechon, giving free massages to the weary counselors, doing a one-on-one tutorial on events planning, thinking of recreation tasks,smelling like smoke from the kitchen fire, and issuing the Final Challenge.
In the span of two days, I witnessed first-time student counselors being servant leaders, sacrificial giving, students realizing how wide and rich the global harvest field is, humility, smiles in the midst of unexpected changes, and moments of sheer joy.
I came in full of ideas of how things should be done. I went home reminded that no matter the limited plans of man, God’s plan will push through.
In keeping with the theme, the Final Challenge ended with this AVP. Words by Amena Brown.
