Sunday, June 1, 2014

I had an interesting walk this morning.  I had watched the movie, "The Way" about the road, El Camino de Santiago (The road of St. James)  which starts in the Great Pyrenees in France and continues into Spain to the Santiango de Campostella.  It is a good film.  I have always been intrigued by pilgrims walking great distances to pilgrimage sites; of course that is not an unusual thing in Northern New Mexico where many people walk at Easter to the church in Chimayo and/or the church in Santa Cruz.

 There is a wonderful book called "The Mystery of the Wonderworker of Ostrog" (St. Basil of Ostrog) that discusses a pilgrimage into the mountains of Serbia, up high rocky passes to the cave church and monastery of St. Basil with pilgrims often crawling the last bit before they reach the top.

At any rate, watching the film spurred me on to walk to the mailbox which is a mile from home. Not much of a pilgrimage I admit, but started thinking....Every new day is a journey.  What if I thought of it that way and actually prayed the prayer for a journey on land from the Orthodox prayer book each day.   With that thought in mind I began.  I walked about half way down the road and got a rock in my shoe so sat down on a telephone box and shook it out.  About the time I was putting my shoe back on there came a woman walking past me. I didn't realize she was even behind me.  I could tell by her legs that she knew what walking was about.  I said, "Got a rock in my shoe."  She said, "Rocks feel really big when they are in your shoe, but when you take them out they are very small." I said, "Yes, I know what you mean."  So we kept walking and she who was walking much faster than I, when on her way.  I realized that I still had the rock in my shoe so went on to the mailbox and leaned against it and took it out.  It was a little rock.  How like our problems, that seem so large and turn out to be nothing much.

As an "In the Way" a pilgrim starts out with a rock that is given to him and is told to put it down when he feels the time is right to do that.  I kept that little rock and have it in my purse, thinking I will know when to set it down. Certainly the worries that I carry with me should be set down at once as they are really quite small though I work them up into giants.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014



As I drive
are rushing behind me.

Before me an object on
the road.

I ask myself.
an obstacle?

Something fallen?

An animal perhaps
right there-
laying across the road?

But as I approach
its darkness
takes the form
of a shadow only-
that I pass over
at 65 MPH.

But wait-
that was no shadow
but a masked

Monday, February 17, 2014

Holy Cross Road

On Santa Cruz Road

Does your heart ever say, 
let it be so forever?

Today even though it seems
A trivial thing, 
I cried aloud,
Yes! Let it be so forever!

The object of my eye was a 
cottonwood limb.
It hangs like a teacup handle over the 
road to Santa Cruz.

The tree has seen at least two hundred years
of history, 
passing back and forth along that road.

That branch alone must be as big around 
as my chest 
under which my heart hangs

How the image of it burns in my mind.
How I weep at its predictable fall.
Something dear will be gone 
And so seemingly will those two hundred years.

And I will sigh and weep perhaps,
because it will hurt my heart.

And then there will be a time that
no one will remember that it was even there, 
that teacup handle pouring out golden leaves in autumn.

But I wonder, will that tree that has heartened me, 
live in Paradise?

Will what we have loved in God's Creation,
be part of the world to come?

I think ... yes.

На дороге в Санта-Круз 

Ваше сердце когда-нибудь говорило -
"Пусть будет так всегда" ?
Это может показаться неуместным,
Но я сегодня плакала во весь голос -
"Да! Пусть будет так всегда!"

Я смотрела на ветвь тополя.
Она висит, похожая на ручку чайной чашки, 
над дорогой в Санта-Круз.
Чудесное творение Божие !

Это дерево свидетельствует в течении 
более двухсот лет,
как по этой дороге проходят туда и обратно.

Эта ветвь должна быть столь же большой, 
как моя грудная клетка,
под которой бьется мое сердце.

Этот образ так и стоит в моей памяти.
Я грустно вздыхаю, думая что когда-нибудь он исчезнет,
А вместе с ним - и память об этих прошедших двух столетиях.

И может быть я буду вздыхать и плакать,
чувствуя грусть в своем сердце.
А потом придет время, когда
никто не будет помнить, как это было тогда,
когда та ручка от чашки излучала свет золотых осенних листьев.

Но мне интересно - дерево, которое так радовало меня,
будет жить в раю?
Будут ли творения Божии, которые мы полюбили,
частью мира грядущего?

Я думаю ..... да .

Translation by Neonilla Kovalevskaya