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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



Thursday, September 26, 2013

Waves

In the darkness
I can hear the relentless roar
the crashing
of the turbulent sea
against
the sands

the assault is unceasing
foreboding
 
as if some endless
wall of water
were surging
surging
 
in the early morning light
I begin to see
the waves
 
white
and frothy
row after row
 
not a wall of
cold darkness
but dancing rows 
advancing
retreating
creating a cacophony of sound
that now delights
and stirs the hear
 
Each day Lord
remind me
that when I cannot see
when my insight is dimmed
because I have no spent time
with myself
and
YOU
 
that life roars
and surges
and overwhelms
 
ah
but when the light comes
pain comes, and goes
joy comes, and goes
 
and I can dance
amidst
the waves
which sometimes
may tumble and toss 
but most of the time
tickle my toes
and 
go
 
 

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