Lovely Poem

[Nandy61]

Its strange, but things like these are appearing in front of me all the time now!

The Road

Here is the road: the light
comes and goes then returns again.
Be gentle with your fellow travelers
as they move through the world of stone and stars
whirling with you yet every one alone.
The road waits.
Do not ask questions but when it invites you
to dance at daybreak, say yes.
Each step is the journey; a single note the song.

~ Arlene Gay Levine ~

 

[KiwiNomad06]

Thank you Nandy- that is very beautiful. (And I have 'pinched' it for my Camino-spirations blog!)
http://kiwinomadsphotos.blogspot.com/2010/08/road.html
Margaret

 

[Nandy61]

Pinch away! I put it up there to share!

 

[CaroleH]

Love the poem, Nandy, and will add it to my collection also.

Here's my favourite camino poem from the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda . . . . .

"And that's why I have to go back
to so many places in the future,
there to find myself
and constantly examine myself
with no witness but the moon
and then whistle with joy.
ambling over rocks and clods of earth,
with no task but to live,
with no family but the road."

 

[dutchpilgrim]

And what about this one?
It was handed to me in Navarrenx.

Ultreya,
Carli Di Bortolo.


Walk
Alone with others,
Thou thyself thy rivals
Thou thyself finding thy companions
Thou thyself seeing thy enemies
thou thyself making thy brothers

Walk
Thy head knows not where thy feet take thy heart

Walk
Pilgrim of the world

Walk
Thou art born for the way

Walk
Thou hast an appointment
Where? With whom?

Walk
Thy steps thy words
The road, thy song
the fatigue, thy prayer
And thy silence, finally thy speech.

Walk
thou art born for the way
That of pilgrimage
That other way leading to thyself
and thy quest

Walk
So that thou may find
at the shrine at the end of the world
Thy peace
Thy joy

Walk
Already, God walks with thee.

 

[Nandy61]

Ooooh! Both lovely, but I got goose bumps reading that last one! Thanks for sharing!

 

[ksam]

Walk
Thy steps thy words
The road, thy song
the fatigue, thy prayer
And thy silence, finally thy speech.

Walk
Already, God walks with thee.

These two stanzas alone, for me are the most perfect..Why? In planning a go for Sept. 2011, I'm getting asked that question often...and these words truly seem the most perfect answer. Thanks to all for sharing your lovely poems...I use them to decorate my tiny padded cubicle!! Think they'll get the hint here at work that I'm serious?? :shock:

Buen Camino all, Karin

 

[TerryB]

Hi all,
I have been trying to express my time on the Primitivo in "poetry" (sort of!). There is a superfluity of books written and that was not working for me:so here is just one 'stanza'

But not lost and not alone
For on that road the pilgrim finds
His every need is satisfied
(but maybe not his 'wants').
On that road there is provision for his thirst.
"El Fuente de Santiago"
"The Well of Saint James"
How many are there of these wells?
On how many roads to Compostela?
And each one has been needed
Down the centuries,
to refresh the weary pilgrims in the heat
On the long and weary road.
From town to town,
Village to village,
Church to church.
Seeking hospitality wherever
It may be found.
And always after him comes the cry
"Buen Camino!"
"Say a prayer for me to the Saint!"
"A hug for the Apostol!"

I could call it 'a work in progress' so please respect copyright! A pm to me will get you the rest, at least as far as I have got - depends on the Muse!

Blessings on your walking
Terry

 

[Bridget and Peter]

I have just discovered the following, Pilgrimages by RS Thomas, about a pilgrimage to Bardsey Island off North West Wales. The last few lines are moving - I'm sure the answer is "yes, God is 'in here' ".

"There is an island there is no going
to but in a small boat, the way
the saints went, travelling the gallery
of the frightened faces of
the long-drowned, munching the gravel
of its beaches. So I have gone
up the salt lane to the building
with the stone altar, and the candles
gone out, and kneeled and lifted
my eyes to the furious gargoyle
of the owl that is like a god
gone small and resentful. There
is no body in the stained window
of the sky now. Am I too late?
Were they too late also, those
first pilgrims? He is such a fast
God, always before us, and
leaving as we arrive.

There are those here
not given to prayer, whose office
is the blank sea that they say daily.
What they listen to is not
hymns, but the slow chemistry of the soil,
that turns saints' bones into dust,
dust to an irritant of the nostril.

There is no time on this island.
The swinging pendulum of the tide
has no clock; the events
are dateless. These people are not
late or soon; they are just
here, with only the one question
to ask, which life answers
by being in them. It is I
who ask. Was the pilgrimage
I made to come to my own
self, to learn that, in times
like these, and for one like me,
God will never be plain and
out there, but dark rather, and
inexplicable, as though he were in here?"

"Pilgrimages" by R. S. Thomas

 

[Timid]

A friend, who was then aged 70, did the Carmino in, I think, 2000 or 2002.

She kindly sent me the poem Ithaka by CP Cavafy.

Here it is read by Sean Connery or James Bond to us who are old enough to remember.

I was so very touched to be sent it as the lady in question recently suffered a severe brain haemorrage but has now happily fully recovered.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1n3n2Ox4Yfk

 

[andy.d]

This is an attempt to make some sense of my first day on the Camino de Levante last year:

OUT OF VALENCIA

In warm September early morning

in solitude and silence

Leaving behind Catedral y Miguelete.

With pack on my back

I take the first tentative

determined steps

of long Camino.

.

Through spicey

southern tang,

through summer dust

I walk tall streets

map in hand

sello in credencial.

.

Excited, bundle of nerves

stomach cramped

pilgrimage that deep

compelling thing

praying for blessing and strength.

.

Into a bar for cafe con leche

relief that my Spanish is enough.

Walking through dawn

in front of me

on the pavement is the first

of how many thousand ?

yellow arrows

I see the Way.

.

At home, leaving his

car at the garage,

a friend walks to work

feeling with me

fifteen hundred mile away.

.

Along main road

against tides of communters

marked by pack and boots and shell

the man runs up

smiling out

the first “Buen Camino!”

.

Crossing roadworks

the policeman shakes my hand

pushes me onward “Venga!”

Small children dash out of

flats to stare.

.

Out of the city

in encompassing heat

boots off, drinking water warm

the cyclist pointing the way I have come:

“Santiago’s there!”

.

Through mounting crushing heat

losing my way in small towns

navigating by Moorish towers

blessing the cool fuente

.

At last I am in Spain

the long call of pilgrimage is answered

yet I am scared

if no one noticed

I would go home.

.

Walking is where the meaning is

through industry, coast

and rice and orange groves.

Walking is hard

yet an arm emerges through the fence

passing me cold water -

the blessings of Santiago upon her.

.

Into Silla, fourteen miles,

(or is it fifteen from

when I was lost?)

finding hotel,

senora leading me

to the door.

.

Wash and rest

establishing that long routine

explore the town

find tomorrow’s Way

go to Mass

wishing I could eat.

.

At the end of this day

I drink cold beer

and sleep.

 

[CaroleH]

That's brilliant, Andy.d, and says it all. Love it and am sure all pilgrims would relate to your feelings and serendipities. .. . and all in little, haiku like, phrases. Thanks for sharing.

Timid, the Sean Connery version of Ithaca is gorgeous. Really relates to the camino experience.. . . and his voice. . . . hmmm

 

[atlanticheart]

Stumbled upon this online; it made me think of the Camino...

A wallk
"My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-

and changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces."
- Rainer Maria Rilke


Hilda

 

[marthas]

Thanks to all of you for sharing these lovely thoughts. You have really lifted my spirits!

Buen camino to all,
Martha

 

[TerryB]

Another 'Stanza' of my epic! This one inspired by the memory of the 'Puerto del Palo' on a wet day. No view, just the realisation that this is as high as it gets.

So the pilgrim must go on!
Out of town, up the hill
Into the mist and the rain.
And at the summit of the pass?
Nothing! Just silence
And the dim light through the mist.
Now downhill
Into the mist and the rain.
Until at last a few dwellings
And an open door into a bar.
The silence as he enters speaks volumes! Then
A sentence in bad Spanish by this stranger
Brings laughter, and willing hands
To help with poncho and sombrero,
Backpack and staff.
The ability to laugh at oneself,
"I'm like a drowned rat . . . !"
Gives others permission to laugh with you.
Sharing joy and pain is part of life.
Part of the pilgrim journey.

blessings
Terry

 

[ksam]

A friend, who was then aged 70...
She kindly sent me the poem Ithaka by CP Cavafy....
Here it is read by Sean Connery or James Bond to us who are old enough to remember

I love this.... both for the inspiration of doing a camino at 70...and for the reading. BUT... James Bond (is there another?) could read me my laundry and grocery list and it'd be great!

 

[Anniesantiago]

I love you pilgrims!
Thanks for all of these...

 

[elzi]

Thanks Nandy!

I think that was the loveliest camino poem I've ever read - I love the bit about dancing at daybreak.

I haven't posted in a long time but your lovely poem has brought me out of hiding. Just thought I'd mention the following extract. I posted once on a camino blog about taking a detour off the road and getting lost and my partner added these oft repeated lines from the well known robert frost poem:

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference

and I wrote them in the front of my mapbook as a reminder that sometimes it's nice to go OFF the path and take the road less travelled by....

 

[CaroleH]

So true Elzi.

Love these poems. More please.

 

[andy.d]

This is more shameless self-promotion, but I have written a companion to 'Out of Valencia' called 'Into Santiago' which is here:

http://pilgrimpace.wordpress.com/2010/1 ... -santiago/

buen camino!

Andy

 

[CaroleH]

Andy, your poem brought a lump to my throat, tear to the eye and a few old memories. You captured the feelings. Thanks. :arrow:

 

[andy.d]

Thanks Carole! Arriving is quite an experience, isn't it,

Andy

 

[Hedwig]

Wauw!

 

[andy.d]

thanks!

 

[CaroleH]

While you are all composing your thoughts . . . .

.... not exactly a poem, but a little, powerful and positive offering ..... :idea:

"Whatever you can do,
or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius and power
and magic in it." . . . . Goethe

 

[susanawee]

Its strange, but things like these are appearing in front of me all the time now!

The Road

Here is the road: the light
comes and goes then returns again.
Be gentle with your fellow travelers
as they move through the world of stone and stars
whirling with you yet every one alone.
The road waits.
Do not ask questions but when it invites you
to dance at daybreak, say yes.
Each step is the journey; a single note the song.

~ Arlene Gay Levine ~

Thankyou Arlene...I have also copied it into my Camino files.....lovely.

 

[susanawee]

Thankyou for sharing this Terry B....I would love to read more of what you have written...smiles.

Hi all,
I have been trying to express my time on the Primitivo in "poetry" (sort of!). There is a superfluity of books written and that was not working for me:so here is just one 'stanza'

But not lost and not alone
For on that road the pilgrim finds
His every need is satisfied
(but maybe not his 'wants').
On that road there is provision for his thirst.
"El Fuente de Santiago"
"The Well of Saint James"
How many are there of these wells?
On how many roads to Compostela?
And each one has been needed
Down the centuries,
to refresh the weary pilgrims in the heat
On the long and weary road.
From town to town,
Village to village,
Church to church.
Seeking hospitality wherever
It may be found.
And always after him comes the cry
"Buen Camino!"
"Say a prayer for me to the Saint!"
"A hug for the Apostol!"

I could call it 'a work in progress' so please respect copyright! A pm to me will get you the rest, at least as far as I have got - depends on the Muse!

Blessings on your walking
Terry

 

[karenfromcali]

Love the poem, Nandy, and will add it to my collection also.

Here's my favourite camino poem from the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda . . . . .
."

Actually just discovered Pablo Neruda through another pilgrim. Beautiful poetry! I just read the poem you posted last night and thought how well it fits the camino. Thanks for sharing

 

[karenfromcali]

Its strange, but things like these are appearing in front of me all the time now!

Funny how the camino seems to give us a brand new set of eyes! A new way of looking at things, or seeing things for the first time that have long been in front of us

 

[pilgrim b]

Funny how the camino seems to give us a brand new set of eyes! A new way of looking at things, or seeing things for the first time that have long been in front of us

Yes Karen :Infinite pupils in our finite eyes !

 

[Tez Watson]

Here's one of the dozen or so poems I penned during and after my son and I cycled the Camino in 2014 (on road bikes)

The Seventh Seal


The two-wheeled knights

Crossed the barren landscape

In the footsteps

Of a hundred generations

Took shelter from the heat

In church, monastery

And albergue

Ate what simple fare

Was offered

Gave thanks for all

Witnessed and consumed

Joyous in their efforts

The commonality

Of purpose

Suffered setbacks

Made gains

Rose at dawn

Dined in community

Slept at dusk

Or in the heat of afternoon

Drank of the water of life

It's fine wine

Sustained their pilgrimage

With ample loaves and fishes

To reach the field of stars


©2014 Tez Watson