The illusion is,
That we are near.
And the reality,
Tells us there is time.
So many miles
That have passed by.
And still more,
I have to endure ahead.
But the feeling,
Is that with patience,
I will arrive,
To the journeys last place.
Along the route,
The markers count down.
With each footfall,
My destiny comes so close.
My body aches,
As it faces the day.
And with evensong,
The place to rest so sweet.
Golden sunshine leads,
And Santiago is near.
Another few miles,
And I will find my joy.
On the threshold,
Of a citys welcome,
I sit for a while,
To reflect the marvelous way.
I come finally,
To see great hope.
Peace and reward,
As the mystery is revealed.
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