Walking in Galicia

By Cole Thornton

Tomb of the knight Sueiro Gómez de Soutomaior

They say the pagan Celts would walk this path
To the land’s end and then their spirits passed Westward
To rest forever with their pagan gods.
They say the Templars once would guard this road
For Peregrinos who, beset by Moors,
Would walk this ancient path to Compostela.

My father walks before me on this path
Through dusty plains, past well-storked belfry towers.
In the evening we eat the Peregrinos’ meal:
Some hardy fare of meat and bread and wine.
Then after, we play chess and Father recites Yeats.
In early morn we rise, and on to Compostela.

We walk through ruined pueblos in the hills
And in a sleepy chapel hear monks chant,
And the old man who strived to read the neums but failed -
We laugh but at least he tries to revive old ways
Despite the discord of these days and years.
We are the same, to walk this path to Compostela.

My father goes before me - wet emerald
Galicia laid out before us as
A dream. They say that we’re awoken but -
It seems - this dream tha…