So what does one do after a pilgrimage?
Joe and I really didn't know, so we kept walking. First we walked all over Amsterdam and cities nearby. Then we walked the width (and back) of Santorini Island in Greece. Finally, with several weeks to go before we were to meet family in London for Christmas, we flew to Italy and speed-walked through Rome before slowing it down in Florence.
During these days, I did my damndest NOT to think of the Camino, its possible meanings and impacts. And Joe did his damndest NOT to lay down before the monster that is depression. I also rekindled my love for the simple structure and limited syllables of Haiku and Tanka.
Amsterdam Dilemma
I could just sit here
In this tiny Dutch roof flat
With white lace curtains
And Ikea-like decor
But I’d miss the bikes and cheese
Santorini Island
The volcano’s heart
Is filled to the rim with blue
Pure Aegean blue;
Dark blue of Nazar Bancuk
The eye that stares down evil.
Seeing Myself in Florence
I am at home here.
I find my grandmother’s smile
On each old woman,
And my heritage in sauce;
Each night, with wine, my birthright.
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