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, December 26, 2013

The day after the Day

We bloomed in Spring
Our bodies are the leaves of God

The apparent seasons of life and death
Our eyes can suffer;

But our souls, dear, I will just say this forthright:
they are God

We will never perish
Unless God
St. Teresa of Avila


O Lord
for many the celebration is over
the trees are looking dry and tired
the presents are opened
the food consumed

and already people begin
to turn away from the season
(although strictly speaking there are 12 days to celebrate)


from one another too
as families scatter
or return to their rooms
to play that brand new video game

how quickly O Beloved
we turn back into our daily lives
how quickly too
we lose our sense of you

that sense of presence
which is, after all
what the season is all about

You with us

How quickly O Beloved
we return to fear
and all that goes with it

without remembering
that You are with us always
we participate in you
(or you in us, I am never sure)

You are birthed in us
and we are never alone

Help us to remember
that though the unreality of Christmas is over
the reality of Christmas

No comments:

Post a Comment