At one time,
in the midst of my journey
happened I upon Emmaus
and the Pilgrims many there
lost in the ecstasy of transfiguration.

Those that lived there still,
residents in a land of many wonders
welcomed them, and myself
with strong arms and hot food
warm beds and burning love.

So many times upon this Road,
had strangers met and fed me
throwing blankets of goodwill
over my weary shoulders
and still I am amazed and overcome.

How many stories to tell?
How many loves have they loved,
and lives they have lived,
and woes they have suffered
and joys they have known....

This was the Feast of All Soul's
and so the wine began to flow
in celebration and memory
of both the living and the dead,
those among us still
and those gone from these shores.

Amidst the shared revelry
and also the quiet supplication
sat I, at home and yet alone
remembering music and happiness
such as this from many lifetimes
ago, so it seemed.

And of a sudden
without invitation of expectation,
approached a woman, garbed as a Bedouin
whom without glancing
placed a wooden rosary in my hand
and whispered the following benediction.

"Allah, Great and Glorious,
watch over him who sits alone,
lost from himself and seeking
that which he cannot find;
provide unto him with the Prophet's
(Blessings Unto Him) resolve,
and the Christ Child's compassion,
that he may find what he journey's toward."

Kissing my forehead,
as my grandmother used to do,
the great woman disappeared
into the night without a sound
and I, I sat in reverence and prayer
till at last, I felt a burden
finally pass me by.