Pilgrim Path

This blog is the work of a seeker and poet. Walking stick in hand, I head out into the world, not of the world, but in the world. My words and my friends carry me along and light the pilgrim path of spiritual journeys.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006


Remembering the pressed metal backyard swing for two
with heavy squeaky springs; my secret summer oasis
under the large maple tree; with laundry strung
on white vinyl lines, I was hidden from everyone’s view.
No companion but a book needed to pass a summer afternoon;
occasional sounds of push mower blades spinning quickly
at the end of a pass; wind blowing those maple branches and leaves
creating a soothing, peaceful backdrop.
Sprinklers cutting wide swaths to reach the vegetable garden
of tall, staked tomato plants, beets and pole beans.
Multi-colored zinnias in a narrow strip of dirt near the fence;
no fertile ground went unplanted.
A perfect spot to join young rebels twenty leagues from Bostontown
as they struggled for their freedom, or pilgrims on their way to Agra
with elephants in tow. Project Mercury heroes might share the afternoon
with Adam and Eve and a not so friendly serpent.
All were welcome to share this secret sacred space
and fill my heart and head with still fresh dreams.


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