[Camino Poem No. 26] The Lake Isle of Innisfree

This is the 26th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. On this (the 26th) day, I walked 17km from Rabanal to El Acebo. 

I woke feeling raw and weak after the ordeal of the night before. Fearing I would not keep it down, I did not eat. What could I do but keep walking?

It so happened that today's path went up, and up. Up, in fact, to the highest point on the camino - the Cruz De Ferro. For years, pilgrims have been depositing stones there, as a way of representing the 'putting down' of some burden that they were carrying. There is a large wooden cross, now surrounded by a mound of stones so high you can climb it.


I began gingerly, grateful when I completed the 5km between Rabanal and the next village. I considered finishing the day there. But as I approached the village cafe, I found Susanna and Clare - the two Dominican sisters with whom I had shared the Dickinson poem the day before. Seeing them, I just felt home. I told them what I had experienced. They listened (you know, in the way that some people just can listen), and gave sound spiritual advice: drink Gatorade.

We walked together to the Cruz de Ferro, where they stopped to pray. They asked me what I would like to do - I read them the poem What you Loved, and explained that I was offering it to my father. I wrote out the last two lines, and tied them to the cross:

'Call to me, come to me, now at the end
Walk with me, life of my life, my friend.'

Shortly afterwards, as I was parting ways with Susanna and Clare, the Australian pilgrim who chose Desiderata walked past, and said, excitedly, 'I've just met someone who we think you'll like'. A few minutes later, I was introduced, and I did (like her).

In fact, in just a few days, my friendship with her would turn out to be one of the most enchanting, inspiring friendships of my life.

As we met, I asked her to pick a poem. So these were the first words that we shared:


Day 26 - W. B. Yeats – The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.