Journal/ Day 16 Switzerland Via Alpina

Switzerland 2022

Dearest Mid-wife,

I greet you with warmth, kindness,
tender affection and ALWAYS gratitude.
When first my pen touched these pages,
‘YOU were.’
Lines ‘mentioned’ your presence.
You were the ‘ink’ flowing from the
tool allowing consonants and vowels
to open doorways.

As each day rose like the sun,
it closed with the stars.
I did not specify You in
a literal sense, and still,
‘YOU were.’
Weeks have passed.
I write this piece for YOU.

The journey westward is moving away from
the high passes
—movement into the meadows and
valleys lay ahead.

Wildflowers, clanging cow bells,
and dancing butterflies
ruffling the fur coats of marmots,
bathe in the light of new dawnings.
Some-thing NEW has begun
in me!  What does this mean?

Honestly, I cannot say
what I have witnessed!

My ‘soles’ allowed me
to cross over the terrain.

Evergreens…the towering pines
reaching skyward nestled below
the mountains that dwell in
the sky.
That glorious dome above my head
—how the blue sky filled with
cotton ball clouds creates patterns on
the ground and ignites the vibrancy
of color stretching on and on.
When the purple shades of dusk
appear and shadows bring out
the watchers of night,
I have sat waiting, watching for
that first star.

Mid-wife I thank you that
‘YOU are.’


To what might I liken this pilgrimage?
The immediate ‘image’ coming to
mind is a playground.

Why, might you ask?

Well, let’s first play on a slide.
Before the SWOOSH down,
there is the climb—
one step followed by another.
At times, both feet step on the
same landing…
other times it’s left foot first,
right foot ascending past the left.
The climb is filled with effort.
One holds the sides or, better yet,
‘poles’ to keep a ‘balance.’
The views from the TOP
have taken away my breath
time and again.
The ‘slide’ down…slow and steady.
Before you know it, you’ve
reached the bottom and you are sitting
in a bed of wildflowers.

The second adventure in the playground
…the swing.
For countless moments, I have felt as if
my feet never touched the ground.
Soft breezes pushed me forward.
I lifted my arms soaring with the hawks
When my feet finally touched the gravel
path, I lurched toward the ropes.

The third playful item on these ‘grounds’…ropes!
On the ropes you never feel,
‘I have this!’
Each step, exactly where it is meant
to be AND each step filled with
purpose and hidden anticipation.

This playground…a pilgrimage.
When it ends,
then it truly will have begun.


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