“Here there are pilgrims
born of the waves
with sunset in their eyes.” Moses Glyn Jones
Pilgrim is the name you’ve been given
as each day you walk the pilgrim way.
Go west to land’s end
Taking the narrow way across to the Isle of Bards,
listen for the echo of saints come to rest.
Watch as the Kestrel learns to fly,
leaving familial nest
to a land unknown to eye
but known of heart.
A “thin space”,
no line between heaven and earth.
The cathedral walls of twisted cliff rocks and waves,
rafters of azure sky
and music of Warbler, Chough, and Gull
invite a conversation of soul proportions.
Isle of currents,
between this and that,
here and there,
comings and goings,
ancient stones and tomorrows horizon,
until the solitude and sweeping seascape
take hold of you in silence.
This is the prayer of the pilgrim.
Llyn Peninsula, Wales
Ynys – unus
Enlli – n clee
Llyn – cl-in