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

Friday, January 4, 2013

Blurred Vision

Hoar Frost 

on White

the snow crunches in the bitter cold
and vision clear
does not exist

I stumble in the haze
wishing for clarity
as the world spins slightly from my disorientation

even as the light dawns
the world remains
not much than a blur

sometimes all of life is
white on white on white
a world hidden

no clear choices
no easy right and wrongs
vision clear does not exist

it is not Lord
that I can't see at all
I do not claim blindness
just blurred vision

and perhaps that is good
for mostly likely it is when I think I can see
that I boldly
walk off the cliff

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