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, May 18, 2013

From thoughts in the middle of the night... deliver us oh Lord

middle of the night
thinking of too many things
of the hurts
and ills of this world
at the violence
and death
so far away
of the violence
so close 
so close
of people who cannot talk
of those who hate
and fear
and judge
of a culture of violence
that shatters bodies and lives
of a culture of enmity
which takes the worn
fissured faces of 
those who are poor
and different
and erases them
making them a cipher
a mere shadow
and then devalues them
making them
I think of politicians who lie
and exagerrate
and lead people who 
fearfully follow them
in to places
that can only be described as the shadow of death
I think of my own
often times
fragmented life
and all I can do
is look deep within
to that seed of the sacred
to that place where 
the sacred and I meet
and cry

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