Things come in waves. Having had five conversations with boarding school survivors in the last three weeks I have been reading some articles on the subject. I remember meeting a whole swathe of people in the eighties talking about their experiences in the sixties and seventies. It seems things continued to be brutal for some in the years that followed.
Ever changing stories written on clouds in the sky ,
Everything that could be, but can never be.
Thunder and tears of lightening rain down on heavens below.
I wander among everglades of stories of love,
in search of the ones I lost.
Moon light kiss the sky and the rain is silver tonight.
The world is too real and so I paint it the way I want.
Sit by the edge of the world,
watch ships sail and fade over silver seas.
Leave their anchors behind, never to return.
They are free, swim and fly. No goodbyes , no regrets.
Is fickle the heart that follows the wind?
The wind that rocks the boat, dries the sea.
I panic a little when this universe ceases to talk to me,
Was that silence from where, she listened to me?
As the pen strokes the page,the ink deforms my thoughts.
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I always .enjoy reading what Gretchen has to say. It is so true what she points out in this article. To guard against lonliness we need a social circle and an intimate relationship. Neither on there own will do it.
Wow. I love that feeling when I come accross another piece of the missing puzzle. This is such an intersting article and the ideas expressed are such a big help in the eternal quest to make sense of it all.