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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



Tuesday, September 17, 2013

The Homeless Soul

“My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there.”
― Rumi

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Oh Lord
a lot of times we feel homeless
homesick

we are not settled
we do not feel at home in our own bodies
we do not feel at ease with ourselves
we do not feel
as if our souls are at home

we are lost

so many things
have twisted and blurred
our true self

words of hatred and rejection
mistakes made
things craved

life

and so we are lost
in the wilderness

and we blunder urgently
futilely
through the thick darkess

remind us Lord
that we are never truly lost

you are in us
the Sacred Seed
the Sacred Breath

our souls
are at home in You

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