Before beginning
I thought I’d walk 500 miles
In the direction of a dead saint
I don’t actually believe in
Along a Pagan path toward which I’m more inclined
I thought perhaps
I might find god
On this road
Either the one the saint died for
Or one of the Pagans' versions
And if the former,
I’d crawl up the steps to the tomb on my knees
In gratitude
Or if the latter,
I’d set large stones upright in a circle and call it Stonehenge II
Before beginning
I thought I’d carry rocks
In my pockets and in my pack
Picking more up each day
Like the transgressions I can’t seem to stop making
It never occurred to me that the road
Might rise up from my feet
And ask me to give back its stones
And take back all the meaning
I foisted on it without asking
I thought for sure I’d write a book
About how the saint or Pagans
Changed my life completely
How their road walked me
Rather than me walking it
But then I discovered
This path has been over-written
It is awash in books and websites
And texts and Instagrams So what could I possibly say that matters?
What could I possibly find
That hasn’t been found before
Or write that wouldn’t bore
A reader or, perhaps more important, myself
To uninterested tears?
Before beginning
I thought the road
Would be sunshine and butterflies
Forty days to spiritual transcendence
(Either Christian or Pagan; I'm not picky)
I thought If only
I walked with an open heart
I could be properly shattered
By the beauty of a pilgrimage
By fig trees and flights of birds and one more gaudy altar
I thought if only
I could overcome
Some good, solid, lingering pain on this journey
Then, and really, only then
My pen would bleed profundities black onto the page
Then I began
And I thought
Maybe I think too much ~ Cheryl Murfin, on the Camino de Santiago
This poem brought tears to our hearts and helped to exorcise the toxins of at least a handful of Holiday excesses. Xoxo Kimby/Madeleine/Harry
This all was the best gift this holy birth day in an otherwise distant land without a December moon in sight. Keep walking and singing. Love to you. Sharon