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.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006


Across the shaky bridge over the rushing river,
on Ardross Street near the center of Inverness
lies the stately Saint Andrew’s Cathedral.
Bricks made grimy by time and pollution cannot hide the beauty
of this monument to faith. Tired but needy travelers
enter the church, early for evensong. Stepping lightly
on marble floor, futile efforts to make no sound.
We make our way into ancient wooden pews
that creak with every touch. We’re guests at rehearsal
of the young girls’ choir; pure, sweet voices rise to the rafters,
sounds absorbed by high wooden beams, making the building stronger.
The choirmaster sits before the young women,
leading them through the subtle notes of ancient hymns
that pierce our hearts. Under his feet lies a great old,
white retriever, content to lay with his head upon the floor,
lulled to rest by these songs, until he spots some strangers.
Slowly hefting his bulk, his weary head hangs low
as he gently makes his way down the steps onto the center aisle.
With great intent and slow gait, this sexton comes to greet us.
A gentle nudge of our hand to scratch his head
is all the price we’re asked. A soulful glance into our eyes
lets us know the Holy Spirit lives here.


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