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

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Wind Blows

It is relentless
no respecter of persons or trees
roaring through the canopy of green
loud and persistent

in its presence nothing is still
trees wave and bow before it
my trash can
dances a little dance
down my driveway

I look up 
a little bit in awe
a little bit in fear

but certainly not complacent
Thank you God for the wind
both the one that blows
through my trees, and the 
wind of the spirit that blows through my soul
It is never boring!


  1. I really like your blogs. You created such beautiful and nice poems. I salute you with that my friend.

  2. Thanks I don't see myself as a poet really, but sometimes
    it helps to write stuff out :)

    Glad you enjoy the blog!