Pilgrim (of my
imaginings)
Pilgrim, pray, stay a moment please!
You need not shrink from my approach
See, it is an old hand that falls upon your shoulder
Beseeching you to turn
And grey eyes that now would hold you in their gaze.
A few words
That is all I ask
Of you who stand where I once stood
Waiting to embark for the holy land
Musing on the soft lit hills
That lay across the sea
With confident eyes I saw them
My will doubting not my limbs
Nor my limbs my will.
Indulge me, Pilgrim
My words will not delay your start
There is some time yet to find your place
And haste ill becomes a pilgrim like yourself.
So wait, my friend
And take this final opportunity
To think
Before you begin
Of what may lay ahead
Of the trials in store.
I know how immortal feels the youth
Though the tongue denies, t'is so
But fearless souls should have fear now
For they may not prevail so easily on the day
Against the darkness
Gathering fast about.
So many have been lost
Like sails at sea
Driven before the wind this way and that
Until the storm at last lays claim
And, abating, rests.
Calm waters mark no grave.
No, Pilgrim
Do not step lightly down this road
As I once did
Supposing myself prepared for what would come.
Alas, my expectations at the outset
Proved no more than simple hopes
A flimsy shawl that did not last
Nor shield against the cold.
Pray, do not shrug with disregard
The worst of your imaginings
As did I
But take the white from the clouds
And fill them black
Take the green from the hills
And bare them dry and hard
Like the desert stones
That will mock your dwindling faith
As you will mock yourself.
Death will seem a kindness, then.
But if you will be guided, friend
As the humble are
Then by all means take from me
An ordinary pilgrim who went before
And learned the way.
Sit down here with me
On these steps beside the sea
Green and rolling deep
Like the tale I shall recall
Of my own hard pilgrimage
And trial
For you to follow
Making footprints in the sand
As I walk in words before you.
Just as I have followed others
Smiling ghosts
Who have shown the way.
II
I remember now
How easy was the start
Sensing deserved reward I ran like an athlete for the line
As if merit sprang from the mere beginning of a task
And easy gain was a right to be enjoyed.
A pilgrim should expect no ease
Manna makes a poor banquet
But it will serve its end.
So put no coloured cloak upon your back
Let humility wrap the shoulders of your soul
For only the humbled will survive
Therefore be humble now.
And if ease should come
As well it may
Swaggering down the road with pockets full
Enjoy it cautiously
Keeping one eye on the past
For a day's pleasure is the pleasure of one day
And who knows what will come
Riding on the morrow
If the morrow comes.
III
In time, the early ease passed on
And left me dry
With hate I viewed the road
That stretched so long
Before and behind
Vanishing progress
On a measure
Of forever.
Hunger had long since surrendered to dry thirst
My tongue filled my mouth
My head bowed low beneath the sun
In vain seeking shade
On a shadeless road.
No friends graced my side
No banter lightened my stride
For one time friends soon turned aside
Deriding me with contempt
Before the distance swallowed them
The echo of their insults lingering still
Pecking like crows at the spirit
That hung loosely from my frame
Weighing my way with doubt.
A cross road hovered low before me in the dust filled air
Marked by a sign as weather-beaten as my hope
Bearing words which could not be read
I waited to enquire of a passer-by
Which is the way, and why?
IV
Then, I wandered truly, with a soul unblessed
Until a many headed beast bade me rest
On a persian carpet
Softly spread
In the shade of a fruit tree
Verdant and red
Dripping with sweetness
In the coolness of a breeze
Blessed with the salt of a distant sea
My eyes could almost glimpse
Some blue Agean clean and wet
Begging my body to bathe.
So I lingered there
A while too long
Forgetting the desert
And forgetting the sun
Putting my trials in the past
As I made conversation pleasant
With a charming host
Who knew my heart too well.
Smiling
I let the beast flatter my ears
Saying how far I had come
More than many would have endured
My name should stand
Like stone in sand
And in my sin I agreed
Paying for it dearly
A hundred fold and one.
V
In the morning
Delirium overtook me
As I lay I thought upon the spot of my grave
Under the elements
That would bare my bones
Under the sun that would bleach them
Under the wind that would cover them
With the moving sand.
Then someone came upon me there
As travellers sometimes do
Dispensing as I lay in need
Charity with chatter
Pouring medicine past cracked lips
And addressing me by name.
Someone from the past
My once ago.
Travelling for reasons altogether different
The desert was merely a word we shared
My devil was her vista.
She told me of those whose childhoods ran parallel with mine
Now so well established in this life
Some acclaimed, some rich, all justifiably so
And why I wondered
Had I fared otherwise?
What failing had no one glimpsed from an early age
Wrongly supposing then that promise would be fulfilled
Accumulating benefit annually like banker's interest.
I shivered in my wretchedness
Rolling to hide my naked parts
As gratitude turned to shame.
VI
Whence followed the night
Darkly laden with longing unfulfilled
The future seemed no more than a bitter circle
To the past
And hope no more than a solitary thread
Suspending heavy life above a deep abyss
So deep it never ends a fall
Painlessly deep it seemed
To me.
And all was a current across my way
I prayed to be swept along
And down.
Inaction not resolution saved me
Dawn was merely the on going of my labour
Not new growth but old wood.
That day I cursed God
Then God accursed me
Begging forgiveness
I was forgiven
But not too soon.
VII
Pilgrim
Listen to the lessons of a stubborn soul
Who has learned those lessons well.
Hard won I share them with you now.
The more you rail against your lot
The more you will be given to rail against.
The more fault you find in others
The more fault will be in you.
And the more you harden to the will of God
The harder will it be
For you.
Because a believer is like a promising child
Caringly directed by a parental hand
And though God is merciful
Mercy can be hard
At first.
VIII
So I began again my journey
Expecting less from life.
Hollowed out I walked
Under the uncaring sun
Seeing some beauty now and then
But to no avail or end.
And passing by the making of a house
I saw it crumbling from the start.
Saw, as bricks and bones dissolve in time,
That the most enduring works
May be the least substantial.
Saw that a true thought may stand longer than a castle
And that the purest thought is God.
Hold fast to that thought Pilgrim
It will buoy you
When the waters run deep
And it will guide you
Like a fixed star in the moving sky
When night obscures around.
For God is a constant to the faithful
The only one
That truly never changes.
IX
So Pilgrim
Take your direction from the will of God
Who has written your way within you
Encrypting destiny in your past and blood.
For we do not, as some assert, define ourselves
Any more than a bird wills its wings
Or an artist makes the art that falls from the brush.
And the best of poets is no more than a pen
In the greater hand of God.
So you must find your way, Pilgrim,
Not proudly make it.
But in searching
Look for signs outside
Look for guidance as well.
You are in the world
The world is not in you
You must steer your way to your end
Searching for the wind in the sky
And avoiding the hazards in the charted sea.
And as you steer, steer straight
But only as you can
Do not wander carelessly with the currents
Forgetting your way
As oft did I
But do not regret divergence either
Sometimes you must leave your course
To hold it
Or perish before the end
As I have nearly perished
More than once.
X
And pray when things are hard
Do not be too proud to beg in prayer
I confess that I hesitated at first
Feeling perhaps undeserving
Of an interfering hand
Or supposing in arrogance
That protection was the mantle of the true
God would know and God would act.
But even so our prayers may fail
For answers must fit with the consistent will of God
That none of us can know
Except, perhaps, that when the sun sets on the city
It sets for all
Pilgrims along with the rest
Or so it seems to me.
Still I prayed for rain
And the rain came.
XI
And the desert sank
As the earth rose up green before the sky
Like my hopes within
And I saw then in the mountains
A cathedral perched so high
It stirred great want within me.
If only I could reach it
To comprehend the world
And loving it for all its faults
Be loved sincerely back.
But I knew that I could not.
Then lower down I saw a church
Humble on a humbler hill
Not so high I could not often gather there
With other faulty souls
And be content.
Sometimes I think wrongly
And dislike myself
For the clay comprising me
Afterwards I beg forgiveness
And washing I forgive myself.
Forgiveness holds no mystery
In its breast.
It begins with understanding
Of what we are
And what we're not.
For though we may wish that a tree is straight
Who is to blame if it grows otherwise?
Not the tree
And not the wind.
To know is almost to forgive.
XII
And with the desert behind
I came again to town
Giving thanks for finding friends there
Like sweet water
I needed them
But now, in others, my eyes discerned deceit
The desert had trained them well to see
Corruption dripping from the corners of its smile
And clever eyes playing false beneath their lids
As artful words tracked seeming true
Though intent was otherwise.
Deception is a living lie
Keep no company with those
Who mislead innocence.
They walk in flames invisible
Consumed progressively
With every little step
Their soul dies
Before their flesh falls from them.
They are the vessels
Of what they might have been
Pity them
Their fate.
XIII
But the town brought good fortune to me too
Which I did not resent
For what is given to a Pilgrim is given purposely
If service is served by wealth
Wealth will come
If service is served by fame
Fame will come
But if service requires anonymity
That is how it will be.
Resent nothing
For there is nothing to resent
A pilgrim has what a pilgrim is meant to have
And lives no shorter than needed.
Of course
Others may be rich and undeserving
And the undeserving rich may so offend
But not because a pilgrim lacks.
Expect no reward
Unless one is promised
You will know if a promise made.
XIV
And with the town came a question
Begging from the past
Like the sign that could not be read
For though direction came
What was the purpose, after all?
What is a pilgrim's purpose then?
To see so much and travel so far
Is not itself the end.
Too eager at the outset,
A young mind would never really ask
Thinking it knew the answer
To the all too obvious.
But answers hide in the desert
Scurrying like lizards from hungry eyes
Or standing still as stones until you pass
Then escaping undiscovered behind your back.
So in time your wandering will make you ask
Like others who see you there
What is your journey, Pilgrim?
Why do you wander here?
Perhaps you know
Perhaps not
But let me bare my thoughts before you now
Like a trusting friend who shares a fire
And breaks from the same mother loaf of bread.
Our journey, I think, is to reconcile
Our will with the will of God.
XV
Seeing what I saw I left the town again
And by the river Jordan
My thirst was slaked.
Needing nothing I wanted nothing then
And learned besides
Reflecting in the willow's shade
That there are two roads to poverty
Circumstance and want.
And of the two
Wanting is the worst
Making even the wealthy poor
Haunting their minds with discontent.
But Wisdom is the middle path
By all means strive
But not for self.
XVI
My journey was nearly ended
When I came to the field of the dead
A cemetery is a salutary place
To dispel immortal myths
For the time will come
When even stone becomes too smooth to serve
As a pointer to some life past
If stone there ever was.
And the time will come
When no one lives who grieves
If grief there ever was.
Then the ground will find some other daily use
And what of life's achievements then?
But for the fact that they served God.
The greatest wake in water is soon gone
And calm waters mark no grave.
Therefore, Pilgrim, love not too much
Not living, not praise, not self
And not the work of others
However great.
But incline your will to the consistent will of God
Who knows the wholeness round
What has been
What is
And what will come.
Then your wanderings will truly cease.
XVII
Then, Pilgrim, I found the gate of journey's end
As pleasing an entrance as you will find
To a life anew.
And, passing through I looked far back
Recalling my naivety
And the bitterness
That dogged my track
Those who helped, those who beat my back.
And I admit that I was tempted then
To judge the things behind me that I saw
And felt
Hard and sad as so much seems to end
But wisdom stayed my tongue
Speaking to me even now like a voice detached
Who are you to judge
From the hand, the heart?
From the suffering, the God?
Thus, remember, Pilgrim
When things seem surely wrong
As when the lion takes the lamb
You cannot see all meaning from a single piece
And we may never see more.
That I remain so much unknowing
Is the greatest that I know
And can impart.
We must never think we know enough
To judge on such a scale
Only arrogance thinks that
A fault that we must struggle to amend
Shedding what self we can
Along the way.
But now, I see
Your ship is almost full
And you must join the queue
At your proper place
(Which we both know is with the last.)
My thanks for your indulgence
I have said, I know, more than is polite
For strangers
But you will understand.
So, goodbye, Pilgrim, and fare you well.
And fare you well, on your way.