Categories: uncategorized
Date: 20 April 2011 10:14:57
Walking along this road
Kicking my feet along the dust
I notice the footsteps gone before
From people whose names I'll never know
And stories I will probably never hear.
I add my own imprint
To the dust
For others to follow
And disturb.
There are the footprints
Of saints and sinners
Of donkeys and men
Of women and children
Of the transgendered
The gay, the straight, the bi
And the simply not bothered.
The footprints of the single,
The married, the civilled, the divorced,
The engaged, the widowed and the seperated
Mingle together on this dusty road.
There are footprints from the furtile, and the childless
The adopted and the adopter
Pilgrims all on this dusty road.
Sometimes the travellers
Footprints have converged
In uncertain companionship
And conversations have ensued
Which have been stilted and difficult
As the different lifestyles and histories
Converge on this dusty path.
Yet they walk together
Aware that in their diversity
Their is a unity of purpose
And of hope
In an uncertain world
Where fear and darkness
Sometimes seem to dominate.
Their footprints in the dust
Follow crowds of days gone by.
Crowds which worshipped a king
And a mob which crucified an innocent man.
Contradiction and confusion
Are mixed into the dust
Marks of the way of welcome
and of the way of hesitant fear
Each generation rediscovering
The meaning of the dust
And the silent sacrifice
Of those who have travelled before.
Why should I be different?
Why should we expect it to be any easier?
Pilgrimage is not an easy journey
Ours is not an easy faith
We don't follow a man
Who took this path to Disneyland
We follow a deity
Who took it to the cross
So as I wipe my brow
And take a very deep breath
I look at the dust
I am wiping from my knees
And kicking from my shoes
As I plant more pilgrim
Footprints in the dust.