Pilgrim

Darren L. Slider

Pilgrim

DARREN L. SLIDER (B. 1967)

Pilgrim

© 1990

I am bound for the land of the rising
of the eastern Glory
of sempiternal light
heralded by triumphant trumpets
proclaiming the exultant feast
on the occasion of the great Marriage.
This I remember from time to time
a pilgrim on a long journey
crossing a sparse plain at night
the perpetual road stretching out before me
sagebrush my only (readily apparent) companion.

Dense masses I cannot see
obscure the preludes to that Glory from above.
The cool of the breeze palliates the absence of that light
but I thirst. I remember the map
in my mind's eye, and it tells me
of a great sea to the north of this place
but one cannot drink the saline water. I stagger on.

The sandy plain stretches out
a coarse blanket punctured by tumbleweeds
but in time I reach the broad river
forsaking the road to drink to satiety.
I rest on the dark riverbank
in the deeper shadow of a bridge.

Author's Note: I wrote this poetic fragment in the autumn of 1990. My intention was to project the journey of the soul toward final union with God onto a map of the landscape between San Diego and Oklahoma City, between which I journeyed (though not, as here, on foot) to marry Carol during the previous summer. The unfinished narrative goes only as far as the Colorado River.