To be a Pilgrim

This poem is more about an existential journey mapped out on the physical world that a straightforwardly religious quest.

To be a Pilgrim

Slowly walking down the road
Burdened by a heavy load
Past city streets, shops and homes
The flower beds, the garden gnomes
And traffic lights, red turns to green
Walking onwards, sight unseen
The houses now are thinning out
The light is fading, time of doubt
The rosy hue of setting sun
Fast falls the twilight, day is done
And now along a beaten track
Stone walls, fields, wooden shack
The gorse so yellow and in bloom
But slowly fading in the gloom
And high above, the stars come out
The sea gulls give one final shout
Silence descending on the land
Waves crash below on rocks and sand
And walking onwards, to the end
As over cliff tops, I ascend
Amidst the storm clouds raging high
Starlight lost in darkening sky
Rain is falling, beating down
And in the distance, like a crown
A turret high, a beam of light
Upon the waves, a glorious sight
The light house stands, so high and tall
Against waves rise up and fall
A sweeping beam along the bay
On white specked foam of sea and spray

And as the tempest rages long
I hear the light house siren song
And joy in wave, and wind and sky
And now my spirit soaring high.