Pilgrimage And Alchemy Poem by guillermo veloso

She sat olive-eyed
Laughing at the thick skinned moon
The madness took hold of her in the tall grass as she played
The worn reed flute channeling songs of her ghosts
Dark monoliths standing like sleeping mares still in the night
Druid reminders of another time

Concupiscent airs drift through her fields and dreams
Charged and wet
She wanders yet
Her pilgrimages are measured in days not miles
Scallop shell, withered palms and
Lichen covered saints carved from ancient stone, kissed by the faithful
Smoothed by their sanctified lips

Her demons return, come and go like
Domesticated lovers
But the alchemy of her heart yields no gold
Only loneliness and sighs
Manifested of shortened journeys and
Late night knocks and calls

In search of her myth
Discovering words spoken by stone
Dreaming of lost voices fragile as
The oncoming mist
She peers ahead and like a bowman
Releases her breath
And walks on