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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, April 12, 2012

Easter Redux

Morning Dawns
Darkness
Then light

A new day
In the garden
They hid
As the light grew
The image of the sacred
Was damaged, twisted
Lost in a bite
A craving

On too many days I wake
And it seems
As if I am hiding in that paradise
Living another day lost

Life lost in the living
In the trudging down the same path
Trudging, trudging across the same beaten ground

Yet with each dawn
I can celebrate one who rose with the dawn
To bring back
That deeply hidden
Created to be me
Image of God
Rebirthed
Rescued
Reborn
Rebirthed
Remade
Reconciled
Renewed

Each morning I can rise with the dawn
And looking in the mirror
See a hint
Of my original face

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If anyone is in Christ, that person is a new creation! (or perhaps a "renewed creation" )

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