I am a wanderer. I would say that I am a seeker, but sometimes I have no idea what I might be seeking, so I will stick with wanderer. This blog is more a public journal than anything. I don't claim to have life figured out. I simply stumble from mystery to mystery, and share my reflections along the way. Sometimes I feel burdened, and trudge. Sometimes? Well sometimes grace breaks through, and its time to dance.
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.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
It lay in the grass
Silent and still
It had been taught well-meaning lessons
And all will be well
Across the waving grass its mother stood
Hoping to not only move away from danger
But move the danger away
In the midst of life
Troubles big and frightening
That tramp through our world
And transform it in thundering chaos
Hooves pound like the horses of the apocalypse
But trouble will trample
Through the field
And hiding or running
hiding we are frozen into immobility
running we of leave