Worth The Journey
You are a pilgrim.
A traveler.
A seeker after the most elusive relics,
those pieces
burnt at the stake,
the shards left after the flames finish.
You know
what you do not know.
Most things
elude you like shadows under the willow,
wind dancers.
And so you write
as you search,
sure the holy remains under the ashes
and that when found,
they will flourish,
for they have survived the flames,
and their truth has become holy,
worth the journey.
About this poem
I’ve said it before. I write to sort things out.
Tom
