Thursday, January 17, 2013

Poem: Peregrini


Not an ounce of the Irish, I am
Nonetheless Celt, the
Spirit of the Peregrini lives
In this Scotswoman's heart
The strength of the Dane
Her foundation, the wanderlust
Of the ancestors pulling
This pilgrim soul

Surrounded by the Angels
Seeking the Wisdom of Christ
Who has been the Light
Shining from the Dawn of Time
There is no better Pilgrimage

There is no other life
But the wandering life
Stagnant spirits haunt places
Regretting that they have not
Gone beyond boundaries

Regret upon regret
That they did not know
The Mystery of a God
And of a Life which
Cannot be bound,
As they have been
Caught between the
Imposition of fear
And of desire

Following the Mysterious
Light of the Christ
Toward the Glorious
Song of Creation
The Pilgrim need not board
Longboat, nor curragh, nor jet plane

But only must open the door
For the expansion of the mind
The opening of the heart
The emergence of the spirit
No longer bound by the limits
Of this temporal life


Surrounded by the Angels
Seeking the Wisdom of Christ
Who has been the Light
Shining from the Dawn of Time
There is no better Pilgrimage

(c) 17 January 2012