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

Friday, February 21, 2014

The Drab Time

“Life is this simple: we are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and the divine is shining through it all the time. This is not just a nice story or a fable, it is true. ”
― Thomas Merton


Tired winter
melted into gray
frozen then melted again
lies mottled on the ground

starkly brave the winds of change

patches of squat earth and rock
brown and matted
push their way through the thinning mantle of ice

a deer
coated thickly, shaggy
like a homeless person on a winter street
with lumpy tattered layers of coats

probes the newly revealed earth for food
then wanders on

this is not the beauty of freshly fallen snow
or the promising comeliness of spring
green and burgeoning

it is that tired time of long
that drab time
which wears the soul

such moments come
and go and come again

seasons of nature
seasons of the soul

the new life hidden, sleeping

will come
will come

No comments:

Post a Comment