Week 302 // Pilgrim

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Night
The forest is a great dark hand
The city is a smudge of light
Tossed in your eye
A photograph

Once
A pilgrim on a great dark road
A searcher in a vast old land
Dwarfed by the map

And I confess to nothing yet
And my feet are worn dog tired
Hold the door for me

Notes
I have made a lot of allusions to this fact, but I have never quite overtly admitted on this blog that in order to subsidize my recently concluded job search, I walked dogs in New York for nearly a year after completing my Master’s degree. It was a bit embarrassing, so maybe this is the confession that I gesture toward in this little tune about walking. I’m not ashamed of it anymore. Actually, I’m proud. I wish I had kept a comprehensive record of the distance I covered by foot over land this year. I’m sure it was far, although I’m doubtful that I could have reached the holy land, had I gone in a straight line. A certain tragedy dawns on me when I ponder a pilgrim walking circles around Manhattan and Brooklyn with no specific destination, yet still clinging to his longing for arrival. Lucky for me, this pilgrim has walked far enough.

~M.E.

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