Returning

Camp is over. Echoes remain, probably for quite some time.
Words are definitely not going to be enough.
The clarity, community, and color of the place I hope to carry with me.
Faces and memories running together like water through my fingers.
Truths I hope desperately not to lose.
Stories of kids overflowing to anyone who will listen.
Fear and hope of a new year.
Tomorrow heading back out, resting in the beauty of the place.
Christ in the morning when I rise,
life in every push and press of muscle and every step taken.