Stopping On The Way
A dabble in a poetic reflection following my time on the Camino de Santiago, walking the Camino Ingles route with my Dad.
Differing strides,
a changeable pace,
moving forward,
yet neither in chase.
The warm sun, pounding rain,
nurtured a weathered face.
Strong coffee and a stamp for their pass,
a biscuit or chocolate, offered with grace.
A father and son, walking side by side,
both grateful for this depth of space.
“Buon Camino!” they hear called,
simple words but no simple race,
the challenge to move and see, yet also be,
a delicate balance, as fine as lace.
The pilgrims return home,
their journey completed, not in haste,
with the memories of conversations, silence, and laughter,
the pilgrimage remembered, like a fine taste.