Buen Camino Whispers


Grasping at straws that leave with the wind

Too busy choosing a life, instead of living one

A long walk, spreading ashes along the roadside

And watching sword fights in between hay stacks

Imaginary bulls whisper “Buen Camino” as they pass through red capes

A greeting, a prayer

A hello, a goodbye

Not just one, a blessing of all, but only to those who receive

I hear a voice, fall to my knees and look up at lanterns swinging overhead

Their arc leaving blessed plumes and sighs of crashing waves

This is where I leave it, gently at the foot of the steps

Buen Camino the bull whispers

Buen Camino I whisper back

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