Pilgrimage awaits and begins
but, you’d rather linger over the back fence
gossiping with neighbors and, after nightfall,
study the erotic silhouettes
on the pulled-down shades, taking note
of the local comings and goings
and the garden needs tending ...
and the daily paper ... the shrubs sculpted,
the lawn trimmed. Pilgrimage awaits
and begins just down the road
but, your house is crowded with characters
and plot devices of your own choosing,
your footsteps heavy on the well-worn boards
as you move from room to room
in a vacant house crowded with characters
behind the curtains, window to window,
door to breezeway, pillar to post with your number
pasted on it as the traffic drifts by out front
in the street which leads to the open road
where pilgrimage awaits and begins if ever
you are moved to vacate the premises
of countless distractions and entertainments.
O child of God, take up arms against yourself.
Surrender has nothing to do with passivity.