Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Compostela.

Compostela.
 
 
 
 
I cry tears for Santiago,
for the weeping is not vain.
I cry tears for San Tiago,
in the light of love I gain.
Here a pilgrimage of ancients,
brought me to know a truth.
Walking across Meseta plain,
I recaptured the oil of my youth.



How many seasons I'd forgotten,
before I walked the way of saints.
How many seasons I'd forgiven,
to live free of a life that taints.
Go again to Saint James' rest,
be all you are and more.
Serve no more the infantile,
show convictions room and pain the door.



They came in droves to see,
a myriad of pilgrims in prayer.
They came in droves to be,
a brotherhood where souls can dare.
Ten thousand more, a million,
as stars set upon the sky.
The new millennium of the Milky Way,
bring a fresh tear into my eye.



Go follow thy heart in memory,
to prevail the walk of the few.
Go follow thy heart in mystery,
where so few had known of you.
Love is all I ask you for,
you have come my way before.
Stretched out across a star field,
see the faithful come once more.