The Pilgrim

It’s a season of transition and you’re on the move again
On a path toward something you cannot disown;
Searching for your being in the labyrinths of heart
And sensing all the while you’re not alone.

Yes, you seem to keep on changing for the better or the worse
And you dream about the shrines you’ve yet to find
And you recognize your longing as a blessing and a curse
And you puzzle at the prisons of your mind.

For as much as you seek freedom from your agonies and fears
And as often as you’ve tried to see the light
There is still a trembling terror as your liberation nears
And you vacillate between the day and the night.

For the Reasoner plays cynic and rejects what it desires,
Playing hard to get with miracles and signs
Till a witness gains momentum and emerges from within
To disclose the patterns well above the lines.

Then a window has been opened and you’ve let yourself observe
How the fabric of your being lies in wait;
And you want to scream in anger and you want to cry for joy
But you worry lest your moment soon abate.

For the roller coaster plummets with a force that drives you sane
As you tightly grasp for truths that will abide;
Never fully understanding that your need to feel secure
Is the very thing that keeps you on the ride.

You survive the oscillations and begin to sense their role
In a process whose direction now seems clear;
While you marvel as the balance point becomes a frequent home
And your inner destination feels like “here”.

So with gentleness and wonder…and not a little fear
You continue on a path that is YOUR way;
For you know that you have touched upon the shores of inner life
And excursions deeper can’t be far away.

There will be countless moments when an old view seems too strong
And you question whether you really can change;
But you’ll always hold inside you a sense of more to come
And abiding love of growth and depth and range.

So take care, my friend, and listen to the whispers of your heart
As it beats its precious rhythm through your days
For warm thoughts and hopes are with you in the valley of your tears
And the paths of love in process have their ways.

Be gentle, my companion, and trust that trust is dear
When the order seems to fade beyond your ken;
And remember that the living is a loving in itself
And the person you would be has long since been.

-- Michael Mahoney