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

Sunday, May 6, 2012


With blurry eyes
I stare at the visage in the steamed mirror
freshly shaven
that dreaded task done (i hate to shave)

the stubble gone
but only partly so
another blade worn down, not worth the keeping

I push the button, ejecting it, and watch it fall
useless into the trashcan
rattling as is makes its way to the bottom

and then

there I am
into that place where the worn down go,
where those are cast who no longer have use
the disposable

right now 
I feel disposable
as if in so many ways
in so many relationships
I have given what I have to give

given, loved
pour myself out
sought to connect
sought to be there for the other
only to find that I am

Someone else comes alone
other interests invade
things get difficult....
it seems inevitable
at some point I will be expendable
and the other will go,
taking what they have gained, what I have given
and move on

I rejoice in their joy
that they have found what they need 
and can move
into new places, new relationships,
on to new journeys

but sometimes i admit
I feel like that blade, tumbling into the trash can...

I know it may well be me
perhaps my giving is really taking
born out of need
so many things can go wrong
and things change

Perhaps I hold too tightly
and it is really time to let go...
but still.....
it is an empty feeling
Then I thought Lord
isn't  this what I often do to you?
I turn to you when I am needy
I look to you for your love
and help
comfort and guidance
I rejoice in our connection, and
celebrate what you bring to my life
I embrace it,
and then comfortable, 
my eye is caught by someone else
something else,
I am off
treating you like a disposable God.
At least Lord, you know how I feel!
Forgive me Lord
help me to always value, and celebrate, and hold fast to
and your love.

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