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

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

As though I had wings

“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.”              
                              Mary Oliver, Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays

what was in that busy head
when you woke up this morning?

as all those twirling thoughts
danced in magical chaos
through your skull

which wraithlike
dancers it you follow,

and in to what unexpected places
did you go?

did you wander into darkness,
wondering why you are even alive?

Or did you find yourself in that clear
high place
where possibilities live and breathe?

were your feet light? Or made of clay?

did you sink or soar?

Ah Sacred One
fill our minds with such wonders
endow us with such hope

that we may rise expectant
and see that heaven
is just beyond the horizon

and arrives
with the rising sun

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