New England Writers II

that ellis paul ghost thing was really weird! Maybe he and Damian should compete for emily dickinson's affections? Heather and I were on ellis paul's website for a while yesterday and he's doing this cool thing in NY where you bring your own dessert/appetizer-maybe we should look into it? Last nite i spent a few hours on napster and a few more just thinking. Our trips leave a lot to be mulled over. And I have to say, every time you read your thoughts on our trips, it brings me to tears- I think its because I feel so honored and lucky to be part of such a group that has helped cultivate my mind and soul; for which I am grateful because possibly without Road Scholars I wouldn't be who I am today. thanks Ms. Van Gelder :) I mean Leslie. (JL) once again, I find myself sitting in front of my computer screen with tears in my eyes and realizing that I'm am eternally saddened that our weekend had to end and that I will have to wait until we next regroup to feel that way again. I would have done anything to not leave the cemetery. As ellis paul accompanies the clicking of my computer keys I recount thoughts, feelings and memories to feel to know to love to get lost in innocence to remember in death to fill voids to invade personal space to accomplish to understand to support to amazement to unchanging bonds to new realizations to beauty to warmth to inspiration to change to nature to beginnings to self to comfortable PEACE how did I get so lucky to be part of this, this beauty of life, of being. How do we all understand, evolve on life on the same level. We are pieces of the same circle that makes our community a whole, and ourselves whole. Beauty of life overwhelms and continually amazes. Dead authors, their bones saturated in the knowledge of the world and life, love, and nature-inspired, inspirational. As I lay down, traces of ellis paul danced on my lips, behind my eyes and to my heart, a smile emerges up recounting hours of absorbing our thoughts through music-enraptured by words that sing to all our hearts- expressing thoughts that are understood without the need of articulation poetry, although using words, can say so much in so little-with startling realization it can shoot to your heart in understanding agreement. the sun shines it warmth and knowledge upon burgeoning minds churning with awareness of place and time. wordless thoughts travel through open hands whose fingertips spread timeless and familiar light. (JL)