THE POET’S PILGRIMAGE

THE POET’S PILGRIMAGE

My personal spiritual journey
By Rex Woodmore

I find inspiration for rhyme can come at almost anytime
A gift? Or perhaps a quirk, but whatever, a poem always lurks.
Working, or taking my time, my thoughts are often in rhyme.
I pick up a pen & words I put down, on paper, plain, lined or brown.

Scribbled memories, thoughts, ideas, some with laughter, some with tears.
I used to write what I perceived, as spiritual things, dreams, crystals & angels wings.
With ‘New Age’ notions & alcoholic potions clouding my mind, I wined & dined. Craving answers, I turned to the East & discovered, ‘tis the way of ‘The Beast’.

Meditation & myths of monks & their kind, kept me from truth & kept me blind
I found monks kind, I thought them wise, but all I was taught was someone’s lies
Monks speak of many paths, but where was mine? It was ‘the blind leading the blind’
The path of the lost & no truth to find, yet eternity was written - contract not signed.

I’m sure the angels witnessed, with a laugh “He tried to plan his own path.
But he is only a fallible, mortal man. He can not bend our Master’s plan”.
Then a lady, an acquaintance, I sensed didn’t lie, quoted me biblical words, so wise.
With help from this lady, my Christian guide, a glimpse of the path of truth I spied.

Today no longer in darkness, I walk in light. The Spirit within, has granted me sight.
Today I write of how mightily I’m blessed as I progress, on this path that’s so right.
Now my inspiration is from God above and I’m able to write, with authority, on love
For I am twice blessed - born again to new life with my guide, by my side as my wife.

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Rex Woodmore   art@mail-me.com