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, July 4, 2012

Morning in the Soul

deep darkness
a world undefined

then there,
yes, right there, 
a hint of a tree
a stone

then a sliver
just a hint 
of gold
and soon the darkness
befuddled begins a slow
and confused retreat

light grows
and dances through the trees
leaving splashes of color in its footsteps
purple and yellow flowers leaping to greet it
and so the world comes alive
inch by inch
moment by moment
sometimes my heart is filled with a darkness
that seems to blanket my soul with blackness
leaving me frozen

no next step
no next choice
just nothing but that blackness

In this void
I wait
as my heart is torn open by the weight 
of all the griefs I have so carefully collected
and created for myself

I wait for the darkness to retreat
before the sun
I wait for God's love to shine 
through the tears in my heart
a lamp in the darkness
illuminating my path
one step, on breath at a time

I wait for morning in my soul

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