nordic pilgrimage

One day I finally knew and began...
The road rose to meet me and my life changed. 
The Earth spoke to me and my horizons opened wide open. 
I learned(learning) - first - to bow to and to speak
the language of the mystery.

Do I know exactly why I had to travel so far,
to sit under that vast sky, 
make strangers kindred spirits,
and sing to the peaks dancing through the mist?

I could not not do it. 

But I know one thing: 
North infused me with an energy
that no other place could.
I now embody Her wildness,
Her freshness, Her silence
as part of my

I am, 
at the feet of mystery.

To be continued, North...


The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice – – –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
‘Mend my life!’
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations – – –
though their melancholy
was terrible. It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.

But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do – – – determined to save
the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver