We are pilgrims, not always something easy to ponder,
it means we are all on a journey towards somewhere,
that place is at the end of our ride though this life.
The route is hard and dangerous for all,
there is pain, heartbreak and confusion,
loneliness often will dog us all the days of our lives,
though surrounded by friends and loved ones,
that inner urgency at times makes itself known.
On our journey we loss everything, nothing is spared.
Our youth, health, self confidence in thinking we actually know anything much,
one by one our friends and loved ones die, and that inner pain increases,
only bearable because of the distractions of this life.
Here and there we run, no stillness, lots of noise to keep out the silence,
waiting for us to enter into its embrace, feared as if it is a form of death,
which it is, for all the we think about ourselves,
or our ideas about the world, slips away and there is only now, darkness, silence,
there is only our is-ness in the face of the immanent and transcendent.
There is also joy at seeing beauty, or hearing music, or seeing a flower,
or a child running and laughing, or human love being shown.
It is as if we get a glimpse into something greater, deeper
than our everyday concerns and tragedies.
Faith is a seed, planted, and when there is a cross roads we have a choice,
to continue in faith, or to withdraw into our inner aloneness without it,
and become even more lonely and bereft.
For the heart thirst can only be assuaged by the infinite.
In the end, our deaths are the sum total of our lives,
we plant the seed of our deeds, and what grows is who we are.
Open to grace or to shut ourselves off, a choice, free, we all have to choose.
The path taken is often seen only by God,
for the human heart is deep beyond our knowing,
and our beauty, which is God’s beauty, beyond our comprehension.