Camp

Forgive me For my inability To use words to describe such a magical thing As a place where everyone and everything Matters Where trees and people grow up Learn to stand tall And be strong Together How can I ever accurately convey The wonder of each passing day? The magic of each moment From the nervous yet excited expressions on every girls face The first time they tip over their canoe Or a climb a rock without a harness From the moment their eyes light up as they discover they have reasons to believe in themselves To the final time they watch the sunset paint the sky and realize that they don't want to go home Is there any way I could convince you That better than the fresh clean air surrounding you Are the people you meet there? The ones you live with, cry with, sing with, succeed with Some part of their character resonating deep within your soul I mean how could it not? For these are the people that turn a trip to the supply closet into a quest for Narnia They're people that are fascinated by nature Who want to share it with everyone They're the best friends you could ever ask for On walks back to your unit in the middle of the night They'll reach out to you Start telling you about their life And you'll listen and share And be a little bit surprised to find you legitimately care Before you know it you're in a massive cinnamon roll hug with 20 people you hardly know But you don't mind Because no one will judge you when you're there Put on a tutu and frolic through the woods They'll join you Be afraid around them They'll encourage you Be you around them They will love you Maybe I can't convince you that camp would be a good home to everyone And maybe I'm just that weird girl clinging to her childhood for far too long But imagine for a moment Your last night there Your final campfire Everyone you've gotten to know and love wrapping their arms around you And raising your voices in unison To sing Their voices combine with yours creating one roar of sound echoing through the quiet forest Reminding you that though you may be just one voice singing You are not alone The next day you go home Ride the bus down the mountain and experience a disconcerting sense of culture shock The moment you see that first Starbucks approaching in the distance You accept that it's over with the utmost resistance You know that all you can do now Is don your bread tags with pride And wait for next year All along reminding yourself that a part of you will always be there Singing Scherman's song