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the pilgrimage

February 23rd, 2013 § 0 comments

Poem #41 for Suzi Myers-Tipa

 

A nice older woman in Spain

was once asked,

“If your dream was to walk the pilgrimage,

why have you never?”

To which she replied,

“When I was young, I was too busy.

Now that I am old, I am too tired.”

 

Too often,

the dream held by a child

becomes a lost box of treasure

from the journeys between the

cities of life’s quests;

That subtle lifelong purpose

is easily forgotten

unwisely replaced by the many temporal dreams

that the collective energy

insists is necessary to define worth.

This all happens at such a young age

many people never are aware

their original purpose even existed.

 

When an agitator crosses paths with this

young misguided wanderer

(or “disciplined, hard-working pursuer of goals”)

the collision of force is as deeply concentrated

as a wall of tornadoes

forcing a tsunami back to sea

the conclusion of this unbearable marriage

is often too predictable

as one so absolutely self-assured of their path

will often admonish the omens of life

and continue down the dark paths of stubbornness

rather than claw through the hostile jungles

which require of the self

silence and instinct

in order to hear the shrieks

of that particular life’s true destiny;

The purpose of that soul’s existence.

 

The enlightened instigator will most always

continue on down their own path,

as this rare individual who is aware

ceases to notice the lost pieces of the mob

because I know

goals completed

dreams accomplished

that those old souls are my omens

now too tired to begin living the life originally intended.

 

My pilgrimage begins…

 

 

 

 

af

 

 

 

 

(written with pen on paper)

 

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