This is a poem by Parker Stafford,
a fellow pilgrim, who was kind enough
to give me permission to reprint it here.
A Gentle World
As the fingers of fortune
release us from what was once assured
a gentle world comes blowing over waters
deep and still
changing our metre and tune
to one more true
like a promise made
beyond memory
Golden light that swells
speaks in rhyme
as we, witness to the great wheel
of time
turning us
turning us
forward and back
as some greater providence
grants us this one moment
like sunlight arcing across the green green grass
as dreamers we are,
touching the stars
remembering how free and ageless we really are.
So let me always remember you
in every form that I take
for this great ocean
that calls out my name
may not know the voice with which to speak
and this heart
whose tuning turns in countless ways
but always back
to that place
we call Home.
Let me always know the song of your soul
and remember more than just dim visions
suspicions
that I am not alone,
but know with absolute certainty
so that just when the time is right
relase my heart like wild upon wild
across the sunlit grass
as dreamers we become
touching stars
bearing the boundless joy
to our world of wonders.
-March 2006
