Where walk the shades of the once-lived

wraiths on pilgrimage to lands of smoke and shadow 

gone over rain-starved and broken roads

robed in the night sky, hooded by the moon

the doors behind are left open

Through to the valley of promised light

down winding paths against sanity’s edge

follow those voices that whisper in the dark

of a city in the trees ahead

where sleep plays god among the shadows

Traveller, walk with us across this plane

See to the watchtower over desert seas

the coming of a stillness wrought from flame

Robe yourself in silk and shadow

and find solace at the end of a lonely path

The rest is left behind there on the road 

and already lost among the trees

Photo by Bee Felten-Leidel on Unsplash

12 responses to “Pilgrimage”

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