Tell me again...

[William Garza]

Tell me again
Oh Pilgrim fair

Why I Must
Travel the Way?

Why Must i be drawn from afar, to some land..known to my heart
Unknown to my feet
Known to my soul
Yet have never breathed the air

Why..old Pilgrim there
Why does my heart beat in time
In between dreaming..and awake
To the footsteps
To the winds...whispers in my ears
To my footsteps
One by one
Until ime done
To a footstep in the night
That reminds me
Ime not yet gone?

Tell me Pilgrim
Tell me of far off places
Close to your heart...
Of places close
That have no feel of home.

The long empty stretches
Bereft of steps
Silent but for the whispers to your soul.

The Wind talks to no one there
They're there..all for their own sake?

I think not.

Why must..I
I! Go.

Ultrea
Buen Camino
Que..te Vaya Bien

I have known Freedom
Because I have known cages
I have known Happiness
Because of Sorrow
I have known Life
Because I have seen too much.

Pilgrim
Your days are counted
Get busy Living or stay busy trying.
Surrounded by Infinite sorrow...
You Pilgrim
You Know Joy,

You have stepped out of Chrysalis
And into the winds
You will never be the same.

I know you
I know you by your eyes.

They have seen the light

I Remember now
The Call..is why.

Pilgrim on the Way
Dont worry why your there
Be..There...
Spend your Time
Do you understand?
Every moment important
Live fully within your time

Be Blessed on Your Way

 

[Wokabaut_Meri]

A wonderful account of the siren call of the Camino.

Thank you, once more, William

 

[Angie94]

Tell me again
Oh Pilgrim fair

Why I Must
Travel the Way?

Why Must i be drawn from afar, to some land..known to my heart
Unknown to my feet
Known to my soul
Yet have never breathed the air

Why..old Pilgrim there
Why does my heart beat in time
In between dreaming..and awake
To the footsteps
To the winds...whispers in my ears
To my footsteps
One by one
Until ime done
To a footstep in the night
That reminds me
Ime not yet gone?

Tell me Pilgrim
Tell me of far off places
Close to your heart...
Of places close
That have no feel of home.

The long empty stretches
Bereft of steps
Silent but for the whispers to your soul.

The Wind talks to no one there
They're there..all for their own sake?

I think not.

Why must..I
I! Go.

Ultrea
Buen Camino
Que..te Vaya Bien

I have known Freedom
Because I have known cages
I have known Happiness
Because of Sorrow
I have known Life
Because I have seen too much.

Pilgrim
Your days are counted
Get busy Living or stay busy trying.
Surrounded by Infinite sorrow...
You Pilgrim
You Know Joy,

You have stepped out of Chrysalis
And into the winds
You will never be the same.

I know you
I know you by your eyes.

They have seen the light

I Remember now
The Call..is why.

Pilgrim on the Way
Dont worry why your there
Be..There...
Spend your Time
Do you understand?
Every moment important
Live fully within your time

Be Blessed on Your Way

having been frustrated most of my adult life with "not getting" poetry -- I seem to get yours!
absolutely fantastic!

 

[William Garza]

Angie
Your life is your Poetry
Every step
Every Joy
Every Sorrow...

Your very steps as you walk out of nites resting place will be the poem to someones life journey.
The sun in the wisps of hair touched by the saucy breeze somewhere in Spain
Your scent comingling with that of spring flowers...
Your Laughter in the sunshine of Santiago!
Is all Poetry.

We are all poems
Written or yet to be
We are all a part of some greater verse
Every Pilgrim adding theirs to a greater tome.

Once heard somewhere..
"Words may move a man"
"But only man, Moves a man"

Your Poetry is known to those who Count
In your Life..and in theirs.

You..
Have Gotten about the business of living.

One day..this may be a great Mystery
Why did you go..
When the light is gone down
People may ask..why
One will wonder and ask..Why Not.

There is something about you now
Mystery somehow
Breathed in for the Last time
Breathed out for the First time

They think you are the only one to reach for the surface...
You..
Fighting the Current.

Your breath held in for so long
As long as you could
You were running out of time
So off you go
Posh against the falls

Your not the only one
Breath out
And they breathed with you
Know
Your not the only one

What is back home?

What?is back home.

You, found your way
Your..Way.
And you can never be the same.

I..
We..know you by your Light.
Pity for those who have eyes
Yet cannot see.

Pity those whove ears
Yet cannot sing.

The Reality of the Way
In contrast with the way of reality.
One is truth
One..is mearely coping with the mortal Coil.

Angie
May the Road rise to meet you
May the truth of things be ever in your sight.
Be Blessed Pilgrim!
Pilgrims All!

 

[Angie94]

Angie
Your life is your Poetry
Every step
Every Joy
Every Sorrow...

Your very steps as you walk out of nites resting place will be the poem to someones life journey.
The sun in the wisps of hair touched by the saucy breeze somewhere in Spain
Your scent comingling with that of spring flowers...
Your Laughter in the sunshine of Santiago!
Is all Poetry.

We are all poems
Written or yet to be
We are all a part of some greater verse
Every Pilgrim adding theirs to a greater tome.

Once heard somewhere..
"Words may move a man"
"But only man, Moves a man"

Your Poetry is known to those who Count
In your Life..and in theirs.

You..
Have Gotten about the business of living.

One day..this may be a great Mystery
Why did you go..
When the light is gone down
People may ask..why
One will wonder and ask..Why Not.

There is something about you now
Mystery somehow
Breathed in for the Last time
Breathed out for the First time

They think you are the only one to reach for the surface...
You..
Fighting the Current.

Your breath held in for so long
As long as you could
You were running out of time
So off you go
Posh against the falls

Your not the only one
Breath out
And they breathed with you
Know
Your not the only one

What is back home?

What?is back home.

You, found your way
Your..Way.
And you can never be the same.

I..
We..know you by your Light.
Pity for those who have eyes
Yet cannot see.

Pity those whove ears
Yet cannot sing.

The Reality of the Way
In contrast with the way of reality.
One is truth
One..is mearely coping with the mortal Coil.

Angie
May the Road rise to meet you
May the truth of things be ever in your sight.
Be Blessed Pilgrim!
Pilgrims All!

I have often shared with people that when I have read a particularly good book I feel as if the writer uses "his pen" as a paintbrush to create a vision or scenario in the mind's eye or feelings in the soul.
It fascinates me how writers such as yourself are able to do this with words.

Incredible.
Thank you for taking the time to share your gift with us.