Welcome to The Poet’s Corner
Elin Babcock Meeting Mother Earth
Whatever your relationship with
Mother Earth I sense you will relate
to Elin Babcock’s Meeting Mother Earth
as “she came through my shoes
…she helped me walk”….
Along the golden path on a journey the Soul
must take as it follows the proverbial yellow
arrow pointing toward the return to The Source,
to “Santiago so far away”. Feeling Her gifts
of encouragement, Her offer to rest, Her
healing water to bless Elin’s tired feet.
Listen to Elin tell of her journey
Meeting Mother Earth
On the Camino de Santiago de Compostela
Elin Babcock On My Camino 2020
Elin Babcock: Meeting Mother Earth On the Camino de Santiago de Compostela
Meeting Mother Earth On the Camino de Santiago de Compostela
The heavy thud
and screeching metal-on-metal
woke me up.
The night train had stopped.
Backpack, check.
Map, check
Water, check.
I looked for the first yellow arrow
towards Santiago so far away.
Among the silent steps,
the smell of spring,
the grazing cows, sheep,
the pecking, clucking chickens
and local dogs, She was reciprocal.
I felt Her encouragement,
through my tired boots, to go on.
I felt it in Her offer to rest
sitting on a moss cushioned rock
by the wandering river
my feet in the water.
Serene
Contemplating, conversing
appreciating Her work
listening to Her chorus of birds.
Towards the end
we were disconnected.
I entered
the cement and car honking outskirts
of the huge city
of Santiago de Compostella
I could no longer hear
Her wisdom.
© Elin Babcock. All rights reserved.
Photo of Camino de Santiago de Compostela by Jorge Luis Ojeda Flota on Unsplash
Meeting Mother Earth On the Camino de Santiago de Compostela
The heavy thud
and screeching metal-on-metal
woke me up.
The night train had stopped.
Backpack, check.
Map, check
Water, check.
I looked for the first yellow arrow
towards Santiago so far away.
Among the silent steps,
the smell of spring,
the grazing cows, sheep,
the pecking, clucking chickens
and local dogs, She was reciprocal.
I felt Her encouragement,
through my tired boots, to go on.
I felt it in Her offer to rest
sitting on a moss cushioned rock
by the wandering river
my feet in the water.
Serene
Contemplating, conversing
appreciating Her work
listening to Her chorus of birds.
Towards the end
we were disconnected.
I entered
the cement and car honking outskirts
of the huge city
of Santiago de Compostella
I could no longer hear
Her wisdom.
© Elin Babcock. All rights reserved.