As morning dew is on the ground,
The pilgrims pass, without a sound.
They take a glance, I catch their eye,
As peacefully, they walk on by.
Like me, they wonder, of the quest,
Which route, which path, could be the best.
And why we all, have come here,
It may be time to challenge fear.
Or maybe just some quiet time,
Our dreams and hope, we can refine.
Without the stress, the demands of life,
Our hearts are opened, emotions rife.
The texture of this morning dew,
Is like our hearts are feeling new.
To open up to every sound,
As our feet glide softly over ground.
And now the sun, it hits my back,
Beams its glory over pilgrim track.
And lifts the dew from solemn soil,
Announces the day, we have to toil.
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