The Eternal Pilgrimage

I’ve walked the ways of curlews and grasshoppers,

through meadows and pine trees, muddy lanes, 

valleys of mists and cliffs where choughs called

to my soul and saw sun gilded branches and

great ocean waves holding the glory of gold.


I’ve walked hospital corridors, shared shed tears,

watched the light go from a sick man’s eyes

and known the weight of human compassion,

following down  the church behind the coffin 

holding love and sore grief heavy with hope.


I’ve walked in the footsteps of sacrificial saints,

along stained streets, across once pretty parks,

and church yards where spent dirty  needles

tell the sadness and pain of dreams hard won

being lost in a haze of poverty and violence.


I’ve walked in the halls of wealth and fame, 

where stalk the fears that the mask will fail

and falling reveal the fresh face of failure,

and money bites into the soul and extracts

like a drug the will to be free of its chains.


Head bent pressing forward, pushing for

a place to rest, a place of peace a place

where footprints in the sand are not mind

but the one who carries me, the one who

caring for all our troubles with his life.

Death to the Precious Earthworm

Like a centipede without legs it pushes it’s way

through the thick earth, unseeing, opting to avoid

stones and wood that silently strew its darkling trail,

chewing on Autumnal leaves, debris of long ago.

Finding new ways and rising to drink from sweet

spring rains, it noses its way through he roots 

of wonders that enjoy its bounteous secretors.


A bird waits, head tipped listening, beak tapping

and the innocent worm hangs in the beak ready

feed the gaping abyss of nestlings, ever hungry

and so the worm builds their bodies and gives

them flight over the verdant earth as cultured,

changed by its turgid turning of the hidden ’til

composted it sustains a complexion of creation.


Every second it is digesting and reinventing the

sustenance that builds until humans sprayed on

chemicals that kill, chemicals to will the plants

into a life that man chooses;  the worm slowly

absorbs poisons and artifices of the populace

and dying takes with it the gift it brought, life,

If only we’d eyes to see and the wisdom of worms