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, December 9, 2012

A little bit lost

Fresh snow stretches
covering the floor of the woods
beyond sight

familiar landmarks
are blurred and gone
and I wander

a little bit lost
tell me who have gone this way before

some erratic and quick
a rabbit avoiding an owl perhaps

some more measured
a deer, looking for a bite to eat

a little bit lost
a look for nothing
and I miss nothing
I am attentive to the way

I have not consented to be lost
it has just happened
having no particular place to go I do not stride purposefully
I saunter
I stroll

going nowhere I do not miss a thing
I see
with sharpened clarity
what is real
who I really am
and how near God can be
when I have lost my way

sometimes it is good to leave the cow path
and wander into unpredictable territory  (thanks Barbara Brown Taylor)
for I find things in the wild wood
that I would never have discovered
if I had stayed on the path

God, you do some of your best work with me
when I am truly, seriously lost

perhaps I need and advanced course
in getting lost

and found

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