a pilgrimage

I arrived late. The train had left the station.
The moment I realized I lost a fortune
Driving home is like  weaving baskets underwater.

I can hear the sounds of her absence
In the kitchen, in music, the zest
Of activities I’m now missing.

Nuances of misunderstanding are slivers
Under the fingernails that became forever
A word missed, engagements broken.

“To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow”
My heart feels a strong ocean undertow,
A longing I’ll always have to grasp.

To bring her back will be a pilgrimage
A true pilgrim with an offering, an homage
Not of devotion but faithfulness.

note: the quotation is from Marilynn Robinson’s Housekeeping.The poem is my first attempt, maybe a crude one, of a rhyme poem.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s