This poem was born out of quiet reflection and fierce resilience.
It’s for anyone who’s ever felt like healing was messy, sacred, and nonlinear.

“The Pilgrim Road Is Not Paved in Gold” is a reminder that our paths don’t have to look the same for our pain – or our perseverance – to be valid.
Whether you’re crawling, sprinting, or standing still: your journey matters.

You’re not alone on this road.

“The Pilgrim Road Is Not Paved in Gold”
(A Poem About Healing and Resilience)

The path to healing is not straight—
it coils like a serpent through stone and shadow,
etched into the spine of a mountain
too proud to bend to mercy.

Some days, I take the road slow—
counting each breath like rosary beads,
to keep from slipping on loose truth,
on grief disguised as gravel.

Other days, I run—
boot soles striking rhythm against fate,
wind howling benedictions in my ears,
like the ghosts of every version of me
that died to bring this one forth.

You—who climb beside me—
do not compare your ridge to mine.
Maybe your trail is lit by lanterns,
or paved with the prayers of softer years.
But I, too, was given a summit.
And I’ll reach it,
even if my knees bleed against jagged grace.

We are all ascending
with burdens stitched to our backs,
sacred scars and trembling hope
like banners in the wind.
Some sing.
Some crawl.
Some forget why they started at all.

But I remember—
the summit is not salvation.
It is simply a place
where I will stand beneath open sky
and whisper: I made it.

So I will not rush.
I will not stray.
Each step is a vow.
Each stone, a psalm.
And I keep my eyes
on the road—
not to avoid the fall,
but to honor the rise.