Shut not open
Home not gone
I begin
Up hills
Becoming mountains
Of loneliness
Turned to contemplation,
Prayer
Talked to myself
Answered
Sang half songs
I remembered
Hummed the rest
Nights came
Cooked one pot meals
Ate lots of pasta
Baked cinnamon apples
Slept exhausted
From nothing
I am on trail
On trial,
Sentenced to learn
I stop at my own altar
Hear my own confession
My penance
To experience
Loneliness,
Compassion
Empathy
Of others.
Say buen Camino to my contact list
Of home pilgrims
Send photos of flowers and trees
In my garden
Let people know
I am OK.
I am on my Camino.
© Elin Babcock. All rights reserved.
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