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, April 23, 2014

There it is, again

wandering through wood
dusky and damp

eyes to the ground
intent on my destination
and not the journey

and there it was
like a slap across the face
that branch I swear
came from nowhere

to send my glasses flying
and leave me stunned
and with a trickle
ever so slight
of blood
running down my face

it happens all the time
I fear
I wander through my day
my life
and suddenly

there it is

a picture
a phrase
an action

something anything
staggers me
and suddenly
suddenly regret

ah the things I carry around
inside me
ah the inner garbage I thought I had dumped
it is still there
ready to emerge at the least excuse

thanks for the wake up call, life
thanks for the power to heal, Spirit

and so I gather myself
and once again
move on

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