The Song I Carried Home (After Walking the Camino)

The Song I Carried Home

We began with a promise—
five years of dreaming
five years of wondering
if knees, hearts, courage
would hold.

The path beckoned.

We walked through sunshine
beneath clouds that softened the sky.

A magical stranger taught us
the Camino Song:
“I hope you find what you’re looking for…”

And I did—
on forest paths
in babbling brooks
yellow arrows pointing the way
shells and bridges
sacred spaces
ancient stone markers
roadside altars
and silent pauses.

In old Baroque churches
golden altars
and the many faces of the Virgin Mary.

We found the right time
the right place
to eat
to rest
to breathe.

I remember:

compassion
friendship
kindness

Craving cucumbers
and black pepper—
nowhere to be found
impossible vegan meals
trees laden with lemons
larger than grapefruit.

Backpacks heavy with hope.

Cobblestones underfoot
plaques etched with history
cozy beds
comforting dinners
the solace of hospitality.

Ancient stones echo Romans
who walked here
long before pilgrims came.

Shadows of crusades
echoes of medieval prayers.

Wildflowers—
uninvited, perfect,
grapes ripening on vines

The Camino song
alive in songbird serenades
in frogs croaking with puddled joy
cats watching from windows
dogs greeting us like old friends.

We framed moments like a photograph.
Looking up, down, sideways, and back

The air smelled of jasmine
fresh-cut grass
roses
the scent of pine and eucalyptus forests
refreshed us.

Rain fell like a blessing
not a burden.

We met beautiful souls—
the broken-hearted woman
walking off her grief
the graduate stepping toward her future
long-married couples chasing adventure
and many more
starting new chapters

We climbed hills
looking downward so the path
seemed flat—
a trick of the eye
a kindness to the body.

Still, the hills tested our stamina.

We carried backpacks
but left behind grief
frustrations
old stories.

We descended into valleys of fatigue
the heat pressing our backs
a cold settling in my chest.

Still, we laughed.
Still, we walked—
sometimes fast
sometimes slow
buoyed by counting down the miles
from pilgrim markers

Daily rhythms:

waking, washing
eating, walking
eating, sleeping
silence, talking

The walk is the way.

Every step became a prayer—
meditation in motion
reverence in rhythm

Letting go
letting come

We remembered what it means
to walk with compassion
to carry nothing but kindness

The Camino gave us:

reverence and joy
hospitality and history
friendship and bravery

We walked
until the journey
became us.

And when at last the spires of Santiago
rose above medieval streets
I wept…
not for the ending
but for the beginning
that waited within.

The Camino
is not a path you finish.

It is a song
you carry home.