The Whisper

[William Garza]

Sometimes

It is too hard to listen..I am afraid i will miss what is being said

A
Deepness inside waits
Like a long lost voice
A distant love
Something on the wind...

Calls

And i wait
And listen

Sometimes it hurts
Sometimes....

The Fiercest Joy! Moves the soul..moving the man...to move the world to get what he wants

I wonder
If the She of our Species feels a different pull...

I wager it is the same...

Homer knew
The sirens call and draw attention away

But home called..stronger

What drives you Pilgrim
To drop what is here
To go
There?

Is it a call...
A magnetic pull like the geese come aflocking at the seasons
Turns the Pilgs and say silently..
Lets get the Flock out of here....

Is Santiago our Galactic center
To which many turn
Falling,rushing,hurtling...drifting ever closer to the center...

What awaited the first Pilgrim?
What awaits the last
And all those in between

Is the question

What draws you...

Be Blessed Pilgrim on the Way
For its a long way and time to let it all go by the wayside.

 

[yaying]

The Whisper....
A soundless that can be deafening...
is it amazing, mysteriously clinging...
Those who hear, didn't listen...
but the deaf understand the calling...

 

[t2andreo]

Maybe we should have a permanent resource thread for poetry...? This stuff is REALLY good.

Just thinking out loud....

 

[William Garza]

My Muse
Decided to speak to me again...

Sometimes its a whisper so faint if you..as,Marcus Aurelius said in that movie...speak it..its gone...

Sometimes its a battle between the emotion and intellect to find the way ro explain a feeling...sussing out the chemistry to find what it means..
My now limited vocabulary..looking out through dirty glass shamefully falls short

Poetry
My bridge between the intangible and tangible

Janus at times
A Lovers hand on the face at other times

Everyone carries the poet
Why else would they walk 500 miles to go even further inside their head
Or is to cut the thread

Who is it

Clotho
Spinning

Lachesis
Dispensing

Atropos
The final cut

What pilgrim does not have tbat desire for one of the fates

a beginning
A middle
An end?

How many start out to begin anew
How many to carry on
How many
To find an end?

Each a poet in their own way
Each...beautiful
You are all stars in a greater Constellation
You are all a greater,deeper meaning

 

[William Garza]

The Whisper....
A soundless that can be deafening...
is it amazing, mysteriously clinging...
Those who hear, didn't listen...
but the deaf understand the calling...

The sadness of those who hear..but cant answer

Pity those who turn deaf ear to it,they miss the chance
They are not silent in the heart

The deaf hear the call because they are listening for it

 

[jmcarp]

As I read the spoken music of this thread, I can't help but wonder how much those that walk (or pedal) the Camino without the open mind and heart of a true pilgrim (and I hesitate to use that term for the misunderstandings that it may cause) miss along the way and afterwards. I do acknowledge, however, that we are all moved in some way by the experience. It is truly a thin place.

 

[William Garza]

Maybe thats why it takes multiple trips down that road...the chapter...or chapters are left unwritten,unread...or unrealised.

Sooner or later everyone is a pilgrim..
Donne mentioned in passing a certain passage...

No man is born sufficient to himself
To think otherwise is folly
No man travels without changing

If they did not? What was the purpose for the wasted effort and time?
Not finding an answer is not the end
It is mearely that..not finding the answer

Maybe its the way the question is being asked.

 

[yaying]

How many start out to begin anew
How many to carry on
How many
To find an end?

As there who blooms after an end...
As some begins when it was ended...
Instead of how many...
Im fond with what many to find an end...

 

[Phil W]

What a wonderful and thought provoking thread!

Maybe we should have a permanent resource thread for poetry...? This stuff is REALLY good.

Just thinking out loud....

I'm with t2andreo, maybe we should have a permanent thread for poetry.

 

[William Garza]

The Thin places

Where
An answer...or the answer may be found reflected from looking at or in

But here it seems..we have to walk to penetrate into and be shown things

The good
The bad
The ugly

In what order? Belongs to the witness
Between the ears
Between hearts beat
Between one step
And the next.

Some live inside their heads
Some live inside their hearts
Some live in the moment

The intellect
The emotive
The moment

Silently they march...running away from
Running toward
Running with....

Suddenly they take up a little bag and turn face west and walk

It is a between time i think..an escape from,to or with...

time is a friend
Change is inevitable ...
and learn to flow within it...to find one secret
Which is another i have told...

Movement is inevitable whether one wants to or not
Even if you dont believe..from,beginning to end you have moved through time amd space

The miles burn away the dross and anguish.

Pain
Is replaced by Peace

The intellectual learns of the emotive

The emotional learns to think

The day..passes
The days pass
The journey is done

There are no blooms at the end
No loving cup
No crowds adulation nor everlasting fame

There is peace
There is clean
There is a deepness and satisfaction in breath

Pilgrimage..the little death i suppose,
A Liminal moment from who you were
To who you are...
And a look at the eternal mirror?
What you could be.

The Pilgrim may be the question incarnate
The Way ..one way..a...way

Empty vessel
Cracked vessel
Flawed vessel
Unfired vessel
Cherished vessel
The forgotten vessl
The unwanted vessel

They are all vessels...all ready to empty,be emptied or filled...
For the First time
The last time
Or yet again

Pilgrim..take your fill
Let it spill over your sides and cleanse away what needs to be

Be Blessed

 

[jmcarp]

Beautiful as always, William, but here's what I was was thinking about: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/markdroberts/series/thin-places/
For many, there exists a place in northern Spain where such a thin place stretches for 500 miles. Happy the pilgrim who perhaps for only one brief moment opens the eyes of his heart and catches a glimpse of this place. Maybe it's somewhere on the meseta; maybe it's listening to vespers at Rabanal; maybe it's in one of the great cathedrals at Burgos or León as you gaze at the marvel of the stained glass; maybe it's there in the stones at the foot of the Cruz de Ferro; maybe it's in the mists of a Galician hillside; who knows?...it could be anywhere, it could be in your head while you sit laughing with a group of friends, it could be when another pilgrim reaches out to help you when you're hurting. And it could be in words spoken like yours, my friend.

 

[yaying]

What?
An answer with in...

Lucky who suffers who after fell joy

Lucky who are in moments synchronized with his thoughts & emotions.

If there is between in time...
that would be 2nd time...

After my earthly end here
Will begin blooming somewhere

Indeed, No crowds adulation nor everlasting fame
But history keeps them

Ironic what constant is chained inevitable change

Immortal Time, timeless and forwarding...

Some blessing is in disguise...

 

[t2andreo]

William and Yaying, you folks are teasing all of us...

 

[Phil W]

William and Yaying, you folks are teasing all of us...

I agree and think it is great! Keep teasing us!

 

[yaying]

@t2andreo @Phil W
ehk...dont mean to tease but to unleash & ease...

Though make me smile some got interested...
Hope u2 wouldnot find it boring...
Though out of boredom my thoughts fond...

....
Lets make a great day
though it wont guarantee to have heyday
what most important is we participate the play...
>>>
oh my @William Garza i missed u
in the beginning of my day...
Hope i see u before it will end my today.

 

[HedaP]

Wow this thread got away from me. Lovely to catch up all in one hit. Do the thin places make your skin thin? That’s what happens to me on the camino. My skin/armour gets really thin and I cry at pilgrim blessings or when the old women of the village sing in church with beautiful blended voices because they have been singing the same songs together since they were children. Or do I cry because there are no young voices singing with them? And if a hospitalero gives me a hug. Or if a fellow pilgrim takes the time to look out for me. The challenge is to be open to all this simple beauty and kindness. It isn’t easy but it is part of walking the camino.

 

[yaying]

hi aunt @HedaP !

simple beauty

isnt it amazing how simplicity
miraculously, disguise & intimately
do wonders.

 

[William Garza]

Would some call the person..."primitive" and use finging fingers to feign some fantastical final defibrillation....to phrase without word or praise....

The person who walks for days
Miasma and gaze
Along old and well trodden ways

Instead of embracing this milliseconds age...that new path of thought which they rest their gaze....

Why walk over and over and over and over.....wait....something new...turn the page...ok back to the primitive....person,who waaaaaaaaaiiiiiiitssss....sssssssss.sssssss.....

...

For...

gratification...waits...

Instead of opening todays devizes
And perusing and dividing and spysez... of multiple files and pages and pdf,doc,jpeg,raw,word and wordperfect...tiff and megabytes,gigabytes,terabits and bytes,00101001001

Whew...it all becomes heady and hand becomes unsteady
With time unendured
From connection ensured
But..slooooooooooow....

Ohh the rages and sorrow
There is no tommorow

Where is my COFFEE!!!!!!
latte double esspresso
Hurry hurry hurry
For of the next trend to find i must worry

In a crashing crescendo
Of caffeine and pumpkin....spice...

Pass judgement upon unwashed mass
For the tech is the word
And device is their missal
Gospel of apple,android and high speed 4g according to signal unroaming...

Pilg..scratches their leg under the arm,and itchy feet...and smells slightly..ugh........
Stale.

Why would a person...praytell
Walk 5 million steps?
No luxury avail?
Pissing behind bush? on some old and uneventfull trail?
Bathing their tush?
Cold water?
The ???????????????...with an angry! At the end if the text...

The Pilgrim abides
Through time and the tides
Days upon end
Up and down road they wend

Weft and warp
The tapestry grown new each pilgrim a thread in the dark for the next

The Pilgrim grown weary
But the road is waiting
Laughter outside
A joy!
Its time to stride!

And those on the other side of the thin abide
For in ages past they knew of those who deride
Of those who thrilled..who feared the pilgrim inside

Some souls stayed home..in comfort abide
Safe amongst walls when storms are astride the winds
When hunger and toil
My joints they need oil
Not made strong from the miles
Ive grown old looking out these windows
Thought arise.

Pilgrim walks out and non pilgrim scoffs
Not for me they say
Not for me...

Leagues away in mind gone astray
Free of the worry
Get up and hurry
Get on with the scurry
Pilgrim smiles because of miles and miles
Away
There may be a bed which to lay
Paella...or ramen..again

And they grow closer to seeung through the thinnest of veils
If they only knew that those pilgrims are smiling too.

 

[yaying]

oh how happy i've seen my @William Garza
in my midday...
His phrases hooked me to stalk...

I envy his thoughts...

Miles & miles im away for i want to be...
But definite he inspires me...

May or not be it someday...
but i am so happy & thankfuly
even just be on this forum
im feeling ok!

 

[jmcarp]

This link was posted on the CSJ Facebook page...I thought it might be appropriate to this thread:

 

[William Garza]

Very fitting

I was the inadvertant accidental traveler.
Circumstance and broken promises were too much for to bear
Only sadness left in empty stare

I wondered what was out there
I wondered what was fair
I wondered what was left for me
I wondered what was spared

So i wandered roads aplenty
So I wandered roads gently
So i wandered roads in sadness
So I wandered roads in repair

Slowly but with sureness
The void from deep was closed
The howling winds from darkness
They turned to days so fair

Quickend by the roadside
Quickend by the miles
Quickend by the toil
Quickend by the smile
Quickened by the moment
Of sun sets in the West
Milky Way above me
A small bed for my rest

Prayers went unanswered
Fires burn away
Childhood and its ways

Pain is reflected back
From
The miles on my face
The tracks of where ive been
Etched deep and in its place

My miles were a poet
My travels they were verse
Songs and chanson sung
They were my only nurse

My back is bent and broken
It is the very worst

The pack that i can carry
Can only carry wind and words
Indeed there were the miles
Wounded knees and feet
Sorrows bound aplenty
It was a very curse

One day
One nite i dont remember
Fate removed a curse
That thread was snipped and the geis was ripped from my tattered purse

But gold was left for toil
And sweat and bitter curse

Then yon howling darkness
Which left me for the wear
Learned then that to take me
It would have to break me first.

Pilgrim
I have walked a different mile
But each and every mile is a smile earned.

Leave your past behind you
Leave it on the Way
Leave it for the fates to find
Leave it for a another day
The Other pilgrims find them
The Other pilgrims say
The Other pilgrims walk beside you
Each and every day

You may have walked a mile
You may have walked a day
You may have walked the thousand
Each and every way...

But did you leave that darkness soundly
Each and every day
Cleansing soul and mending heart
With the rising of the Way.

Be Blessed Pilgrim on your way

 

[Kiwi-family]

I just finished my latest poetry book and was contemplating what to read next. I’ve found my answer. Bookmarked for summer reading and contemplation. Thank you.

 

[Phil W]

Pilgrim
I have walked a different mile
But each and every mile is a smile earned.

Leave your past behind you
Leave it on the Way
Leave it for the fates to find
Leave it for a another day
The Other pilgrims find them
The Other pilgrims say
The Other pilgrims walk beside you
Each and every day

You may have walked a mile
You may have walked a day
You may have walked the thousand
Each and every way...

But did you leave that darkness soundly
Each and every day
Cleansing soul and mending heart
With the rising of the Way.

Be Blessed Pilgrim on your way

This really spoke to me. Thank you William.

 

[yaying]

last night i was praying,
THANKING @William Garza & the rest of them
whom i dont know even but strangely comforting
another @jmcarp strangers that sparks beginning of
my day! That enya makes me quiver in a very untypical
good way!

One way or another we all end anyway...
Highway by the way disguise even in awful way...

>>>
What a start of great day!

 

[Stroller]

So you saw them, in the dawn, misty figures, glimpsed, never fully seen, always in the corner of sight, a faint shadow,
You saw them in the vastness of the Meseta, a wraith in the infinite space.
They were there in the mountains, dim figures crossing the ridge ahead on winged feet, briefly at the edge of the eye and then gone.
No sense of threat, no Puck, no jester, just a figure glimpsed and lost.

You heard them in the woods, on the edge of hearing, lost when you listened, but around you, a susurration in the undergrowth.
A faint sound on the wind.

I know you saw them, you left them your offerings, the balanced stones, the boot on a wayside marker, stone and stick patterns on tracks, a bunch of wild flowers and reed woven on fences.
New altars, new offerings.

It was good to do so, to acknowledge them, to respect them, as you walked this thin place between worlds.

The old Gods, the Grey Folk, on the wild edges, forgotten in the urban rush, on the edge of myth and legend, but they not forgetting you.

 

[William Garza]

So you saw them, in the dawn, misty figures, glimpsed, never fully seen, always in the corner of sight, a faint shadow,
You saw them in the vastness of the Meseta, a wraith in the infinite space.
They were there in the mountains, dim figures crossing the ridge ahead on winged feet, briefly at the edge of the eye and then gone.
No sense of threat, no Puck, no jester, just a figure glimpsed and lost.

You heard them in the woods, on the edge of hearing, lost when you listened, but around you, a susurration in the undergrowth.
A faint sound on the wind.

I know you saw them, you left them your offerings, the balanced stones, the boot on a wayside marker, stone and stick patterns on tracks, a bunch of wild flowers and reed woven on fences.
New altars, new offerings.

It was good to do so, to acknowledge them, to respect them, as you walked this thin place between worlds.

The old Gods, the Grey Folk, on the wild edges, forgotten in the your urban rush, on the edge of myth and legend, but they not forgetting you.

Absolute beauty.

 

[t2andreo]

WOW! I, who am typically NEVER at a loss for words, am humbled by so much excellent poetry.

Thank you all!

It is a fitting Camino Christmas Present...

 

[yaying]

@stroll for such, in my deepest longing, picturing it out keep my spirit holding, im less scared of falling.

 

[William Garza]

A place
A thrill of hope for the old old and worldly weary
The chance at Faith
Ohh the nite is tearly

Fell on their knees
Tears that make eyes bright
Hands raised in hope
Or surrender nearly

They walk into the nite
Footsore and soul-y wearied
Silent in their plight
Silent in their nite

Shed the seeds of sorrow
From eyes that see too clearly
Wandering souls...
Of having faith so mearley

Far from homes and hearth
The find the path of the broken hearted

Milky Way
Only the wake of a ship long passed
Silent sparkling winters lyre

How many storys...
How many millions of tears in that silent nite.

But westering they come
All roads go somewhere
No roads
Lead nowhere

Some find...that to find...that which need be defined
Burned by sorrow
Burdened debt of soul
That to plumb the depths...

One must walk without safe and certain mode
No map
Here there be monsters
Reflection of their own

Westward they hear
That souls may re appear

Out of mist and uncertain twist
Of fates

What happens deep inside the lost
When map and way are lost

They look for upward gaze
Polestar in the maze
And remember forgotten phrase

I am here.
I break your chains..

You are free...

Westward they go
A rivers streaming flow
Following the call toward a home

What rough and winding beast
Running away from east
Slinking home to be reborn.

Pilgrim on the Way
The answers are right there inside you
Just keep moving forward