It’s a pilgrimage of sorts,
one of pilgrims from all courts,
as we travel stride by stride on this life’s journey.
By the grit of God’s good grace
we each choose our own pace,
pausing not at life's edge, nor skin, nor peel.
No, we journey through its fruit,
soft flesh, thick pulp, sweet juice,
toward its center, to its seed, to our source.
There we discover, we recover
with surprise in our eyes,
the purpose of our being and our breath
is not to see sites on the way,
nor to hold each other’s sway,
but to shine the light within that beams our truth.
There we learn ‘fore life’s adjourn
all have but one concern:
to sing the song we knew before we came,
that no matter our nature, nation or name,
at heart, we’re all the same.
At the crossroads of our souls we are one.
Ah yes, to set out is to arrive,
and to die is to come alive,
This is the journey in our journeys.
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