Do you remember I told you that something amazing happens when I walk? The Camino de Santiago enables me to tap into a flow of creativity. I can’t call it ‘my’ flow as such, because I do not feel as though this flow is isolated to and by myself. The flow is co-created with all that is.
Here is my most recent offering to the Universe, which began to reveal itself as I took an early morning stroll between two very long avenues of trees on the way from Villafranca de Montes de Oca to San Juan de Ortega. I hope you enjoy it!
My soul sings.
My soul sings to the trees by the light of the morning,
And dances in the breeze to herald the dawning of
Hope in my heart as a new day arrives,
Under radiant sun my whole being thrives,
Upon walking the Way in the path of the ancients,
Who accompany me beyond time and space
And I know I am not alone.
My soul sings to the birds to join in their symphony,
And floats above phrase and cadence of rhapsody,
Creating harmonics from music so pure,
My heart-strings vibrate to the melody’s allure,
Upon hearing the Way proclaimed in fine birdsong,
My body, an instrument, to this orchestra belongs,
And hums along to its soul-tune.
My soul sings to the flowers in the warmth of the noon-day,
And paints kaleidoscope hues on meadows at play,
With butterflies and bees it flit-flutters about,
Their display lifts mine eyes from within to without,
Upon seeing the Way cloaked in myriad colours,
My consciousness shifts to uncover the wonders,
Of creation, and I kneel down.
My soul sings to the mountains, the rocks and the earth,
And beats Gaia’s rhythm to welcome the birth,
Of a new phase of grace that will touch all who know,
To heed the pilgrim’s call to get up and go,
Upon feeling the Way safe and sure ‘neath my feet,
Where sole of pilgrim shoe and gravel path meet,
And I urge my feet to walk on.
My soul sings to the lakes in the silvery twilight,
And murmurs to waterfalls and rivers of might,
That water the gardens of the grain and the vine,
Which produce humble fayre of the bread and the wine,
Upon tasting the Way presented at table,
A feast fit for kings where pilgrims assemble,
And I feel like I have come home.
My soul sings to the people of all tribes and tongues,
The quick and the slow ones, the old and the young,
Who converge on the trail to follow the signs,
And delight in the source of all energy divine,
Upon speaking the Way in kind whispers of care,
From one heart to another they render souls bare,
And I intuit we are one.
My soul sings to the moon and stars of the night sky,
And rises up to orbit the planets on high,
Where mysteries are coded in patterns above,
To reveal to us signs we are closer to love,
Upon being the Way pilgrims may never cease,
To transform the sword’s blade into justice and peace,
And I believe heaven is here.
– Sarah Justine Packwood
Peace, love and light,