An Epiphany Blessing
(Jan Richardson)
If you could see the journey whole,
you might never undertake it,
might never dare the first step
that propels you from the place
you have known toward the place
you know not.
Call it one of the mercies of the road:
that we see it only by stages
as it opens before us,
as it comes into our keeping,
step by single step.
There is nothing for it but to go,
and by our going take the vows
the pilgrim takes:
to be faithful to the next step;
to rely on more than the map;
to heed the signposts of intuition and dream;
to follow the star that only you will recognize;
to press on beyond distractions, beyond fatigue,
to keep an open eye for the wonders that attend the path;
beyond what would tempt you from the way.
There are vows that only you will know:
the secret promises for your particular path
and the new ones you will need to make
when the road is revealed
by turns you could not
have foreseen.
Keep them, break them,
make them again;
each promise becomes part of the path,
each choice creates the road
that will take you to the place
where at last you will kneel
to offer the gift most needed
the gift that only you can give
before turning to go home
by another way.