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

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Losing our Voice

“Pardon all runners,
All speechless, alien winds,
All mad waters.

Pardon their impulses,
Their wild attitudes,
Their young flights, their reticence.

When a message has no clothes on
How can it be spoken.”
― Thomas Merton

life is full of wild winds
that roar and howl
through our lives

bending and twisting
cutting through our defenses
and leaving us cold
and naked

there  things
we cannot fully see
or understand
which we cannot grasp and control
torment us
and freeze our hearts

and in our frozen
misunderstanding we would howl back
answering the violence

spitting into the wind

and in the violent gusts
of hate and prejudice
our message of love
is stripped
and naked

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