In the Pines

Ever since landing in the green of Portland, 

my soul has been able to take a breath.

My little summer home peeking through the pines.

Each day,

I wake up surrounded in a blanket of green,

greeted by morning songs of the swallows

as my little home bobs to the rhythm of each wave

gently flowing along the Willamette River.

Living Room view each day, every day.

My mind is emptied and given space for free thought,

silence puts everything to rest.

On evening walks along the river trail,

I look down and see those same shoes that carried me across Spain.

I listen to that familiar rhythm, 

one step in front of the other.

I close my eyes and remember the walk.

Tracks & trail along the river.

To walk is to trust, to transform, to descend into the heart.

The Camino is the same walk here & now.

The Way we go when we follow God,

sometimes blindly to a gathering in St Louis,

quite randomly ushering me to a summer on a houseboat.

Portland home.