Pilgrimage

Leaving the familiar,

you take a left,

then a right,

because that’s where the river is,

and the bridge,

with its threshold

to a different life,

and an island,

you must go to,

and a climb,

that’s required of you.

And from where you’ve come,

you can barely see it,

but there’s a path,

with signposts at times,

but often not,

and strange things in the woods,

landmarks,

and walkways

to entries

where permission is granted,

and you marvel at shapes,

forms,

structures,

and the culture from which they arose.

There’s an enclosure,

which you approach,

and inside reminders that you’re in a different land,

with a different wisdom,

and a different people,

whose faith is different,

and can’t be yours.

You want to stay,

but bid goodbye,

descending as you must,

taking the same path,

though different,

onto the same bridge,

and the well marked way,

arriving at the station,

just in time,

to cross the threshold,

for another journey,

to a different land,

where at the end you realize

life is but a pilgrimage.

Pilgrim

- David Whyte

I bow to the lark

and its tiny

lifted silhouette

fluttering

before infinity.

I promise myself

to the mountain

and to the foundation

from which

my future comes.

I make my vow

to the stream

flowing beneath,

and to the water

falling

toward all thirst,

and

I pledge myself

to the sea

to which it goes

and to the mercy

of my disappearance,

and though I may be

left alone

or abandoned by

the unyielding present

or orphaned in some far

unspoken place,

I will speak

with a voice

of loyalty

and faith

to the far shore

where everything

turns to arrival,

if only in the sound

of falling waves

and I will listen

with sincere

and attentive eyes and ears

for a final invitation,

so that I can

be that note half-heard

in the flying lark song,

or that tint

on a far mountain

brushed with the subtle

grey of dawn,

even a river gone by

still looking

as if it hasn't,

or an ocean heard only

as the sound of waves

falling and falling,

and falling,

my eyes closing

with them

into some

undeserved nothing

even as they

give up their

strength

on the sand.