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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, October 8, 2013

I like how you blush


I like the way you blush, God
the season spring,
the season summer, the season
fall, the hour of winter
and that magnificent season
existence!
yes I love the way you blush, my
Lord, when we are sometimes
near.
                                    Hafiz

____________________________________________

O Lord
waiting for the sun
I think about You
I think about leaves turning brilliant
and skies turning gray
I think of snow on the mountains
and crisp mornings
of frost on the flowers

I think of the smell of smoke in the air
and the rustling of the wind
in the Aspens

I think of deer
Tiptoeing through the pines
and horse
leaning over the fence
chastising me
for not feeding them earlier

I think of quail
fatly (my own made up word) running to
gobble the sunflower seeds the
crossbeaks have left behind

of cats
slinking through the grass
thinking “dinner”
as the quail scatter

ah your world lord
it is as much a sign of your love
as the blush
of a woman (or man)
in the presence of her (or his)
beloved


Thank you

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