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 11, 2013

the tired place

That vague place
where mind complains
at the idea
the very idea
of one more decision to be made
one more option to be explored

that place where
gaze at the screen
at little letters 
that some how fail to arrange themselves
into something meaningful

that place where a cloud
hangs over one's head
making the world seem
just one step away, behind the mist

that place where
arms and legs
are heavy
but not warm

and the ears 
echo with a faint roaring

and its only 8am


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