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

Saturday, March 9, 2013

New Every Morning

Every morning it greets me
the mountain

ever present

every morning it is there
the same
yet not the same

some mornings brilliant white
thrusting into a sky 
of neon blue

some mornings 
touched with the sunrise
a cacophony of colors
lifting the soul
sometimes it looms
in the mist
dark and mysterious
and sometimes
the mist
like a gray
diaphanous blanket 
hides its presence from straining
and yet even then
it is there
I never tire of this mountain which
new every morning
In its ever changing unchangedness 
it is an anchor for my unsettled
and fearful soul
when the earth beneath my feet trembles
when my heart is faint
and my mind unruly
its presence
 brings me peace

so too
my God
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail. 
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness. 
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”
Lamentations 3:22-24 

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