Ways

[William Garza]

The Chariot of souls

We see the dust
Millions of Peregrinos lives
Moving ever west in the night

That river, that road less traveled
By more thans...
Where inside,
Mayhap they were "less than"

What did they find?
What did they leave behind...
But a gentle trail of stars to light the way into that gentle nite.

Bold sun strides cross the Heavens!
Sylvian moonlit road
And further still
Out among the stars...we travel

If not in fact?
In heart and mind.

Where is the piece of mind
For the travellers home
Isnt
The road isnt home
Yet always traveling on it brings the great comfort of belonging

Some..where...Some..When....

Little motes
Little notes of a greater life

Pilgrim on the Way,
Be Blessed

 

[Wokabaut_Meri]

The Chariot of Souls... what a beautiful description of pilgrims along the Way...

Thank you once more for your poetic postings.

When I read it I heard an echo of that great mystic and poet Rumi:

Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter.

Ours is not a caravan of despair.

Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times.

Come, yet again , come , come.

 

[William Garza]

I got to read Rumi
Seems to have traveled many roads

 

[William Garza]

Just a small observation
I seem to have an wandering pen, likened for or to the stylings of middle eastern poets...or not..i wonder.

When I read Gibran..I have to take small doses..as if sipping from a chipped cup..the finest tea

Rumi...may require the same patience..as to savor evry last echo in his words.

My Muse it seems..has an affinity.

That muse..she speaks so loudly at times i am driven to write because of insistence

Sometimes
She whispers quietly in the nite..as if the visible breath of winters past
So fragile is this thread to her..tears come unbidden at the futility at keeping the single silken cord intact
Follow a spiders web in the moonlight..

And heart breaking when some glitch erases her words at the press of enter.

Then
There is the Way.

Indescribably complex
Yet written so that all a,person has to do is turn and see,.

There
There is the Way.

The separation from the coils of this mortal life, entwine,and enrapture..bedazzle and bind
Bind..so we cannot leave behind
And take the task
To find
Or not..whether we pass those rights of passage

And on return
To find that we simply..have ceased to fit our previous lives.

Are the tears for missing the road
Or finding that we must leave the road
Are the tears for for the lesson of fears
Or are they for what you return to

You have changed...
Grown now
Too big for the mortal coil
It Binds
It..
burns....

As I look at you
Bound
Hercules no more
Locks added
Locks shorn

Dont look at me,
The tears burn my soul
How I wish to find you broken
Free of the bounds of iniquity

For you have seen
And must live the smaller of lives

How I would wish to see
You
Looking back at me
Wind and sun and trail bright hair
A smile as you walk ahead of me

Pilgrim
Life out there is too big to see
But not to feel

Your chains are cut
Set yourself free

Be Blessed Pilgrim

 

[Wokabaut_Meri]

I fell in love with Rumi as a child and the affair continues throughout my journeyman years... and, of course, a love of travelling leads one down many paths...

This was sent to me by a dear friend during a difficult moment on the Camino last year when I thought the Way was lost... we often talk about the beauty within suffering and wandering/wondering pens...

Fellow Traveller
from Wondering and Wandering: Poems from Dharamsala
Prahlad Shekhawat

My fellow traveller
and old friend
My second self
how are you doing
how is the spirit
and its movement
Send some emotion
worth remembering
Maybe I too can wield
my rhythm pen
to make it into a poem,
Perhaps an idea
of misery may become
a tale of hope.
an out of tune sadness
may become
a more profound poem.
You forgot me
but at least
for the sake of
the honour of
our half finished poem,
send an emotion or idea
so that one can
gather broken half sentences
and make them into
a full poem.