Pilgrim’s Crossing*

I came into this world as a stranger—a foreigner to many things—and as time rushes on, I’ve found that strangeness appears in many shapes and sizes.

I got stuck trying to process one feeling- the sensation of familiar spirits, familiar transits, familiar environments and the fear of unknown ones.

This “foreign” feeling sometimes came from outside, but it also snuck up on me from within; so I buried it by the crossroads and walked down a different path. 

I walked the lone road through the gate to Eden—and lived as a suppliant and a traveler. I walked till I came to the archway where east meets west.

I walked through the far west and learned from stewards and patrons. I walked over the horizon and there I found my crossroads once again.

Once again the Way felt foreign, yet I’d never left the garden— and I couldn’t figure out which way was mine: east or west.

So I sat down, to wait for the next passing pilgrim, to see if we could walk together.