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Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning



Thursday, December 12, 2013

be more silent

“Sit quietly and listen for a voice that will say, "Be more silent." As that happens, your soul starts to revive.”
― Rumi

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I wake a little disoriented
This is not my bed
This is not my house
The mountain does not rise into the sky
Outside my window

Below the sound of cars rushing
someplace
anyplace

I am not home

Someone once suggested that
I always feel a little homesick
never quite at home
even at home
even underneath that mountain that stands so stolid
and gazes down at me so patiently

and thus my mind and heart
and soul ever search

I read
And work
And play and work some more
I busily search for some sense of finally being
In “that place”
where I am meant to be

and then gently the voice comes
whispering
still and small
“Stop!”
“Listen!”
“Breathe”

you have been home all the time
you are at home
wherever you are

stop, listen, breathe
home
is when your soul
comes
alive

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