literature

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Literature Text

I'm caught it seems,
between what I want and what I need.
That beautiful pile of rocks that I called home,
is calling again.
When I finished my ranger career,
I told myself I'd wait a summer.
I have to be responsible,
I need to focus on life-
When I talked with so many other staffers,
I heard stories of "I can't deal with life anymore,
I need to run away to Philmont."

It's funny,
Because so long ago I promised myself
That I wouldn't run away to different states,
Because I was just avoiding my problems.
Here I am so many years along,
And I'm having the same dilemma.
I'm trying to tell myself that I don't want to go back,
But the signs are all there.
Who carries a liter and a half Nalgene?
With the arrowhead and Tooth of Time;
I'm wanting someone to ask me about it,
so that I can tell them I had the time of my life.
When my coworkers or friends say they were in scouting,
My first question to them,
"Have you been to Philmont?"
Do you have the same struggle that I do,
with this obsession of God's Country?

The hymns and songs we would sing,
Are now what I will idly go over in my head,
As if I were practicing for my first bell story again.
So there I was,
Lying awake in bed after another dream of hiking in this place,
Tears rushing down my face.
"Maybe I'll stay for a little while,
But I need to go back home.
I can't be here."

Do you know why I cried when the summer was about done?
Because I knew this place would be no more.
I had to go back to life where nothing made sense,
And it wasn't all Bearmuda Triangles and early morning hikes.
My last crew I told them,
"Dammit, your trek is too short to say that you want to go home.
I've been here all summer,
And I'm still not ready."

I need to promise myself to keep on track,
Because you can't always run away to Philmont.
I already knew when I went,
That I had more to learn about myself than I could teach.
It wasn't about giving back to scouting,
It was about experiencing that place again.
After climbing a mountain that seemed to go on forever on my days off,
I sat and stared at what I had conquered.
"I" had done that,
And no one else was there with me.
That is what man can do,
When he puts his mind to it.

For those of you not in Boy Scouts,
It's called scouting paradise.
In Cimarron, New Mexico.
Scouts from all over the nation come,
To experience this place for two weeks at a time,
And then go home.
To think about everything that had happened,
And wish they could go back.

I need to keep my promise,
That I'll stay away for one more summer.
I need to focus on me,
Before I can focus on others.
But I also need to make a promise,
That I'm going to go back,
Once I have my life straight.
Because all I can think is,

I want to go back to Philmont.
I woke up this morning from a dream, where I was at Philmont hiking in early season, and I was in tears. I knew I couldn't be here, but I wanted to be. I told myself, "Maybe I'll just stay for a little while." And then I woke up. I was frantic- I had no one to text, because no one would understand. I need to keep myself realistic, that I'm not ready yet. But I will be. And when I am, I will go back.
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