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, June 25, 2014

Dancing in the Sprinklers

I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.”
― Rumi

we are called
called by the wild Spirit
called by the voices in the wilderness
called by the stars
called by the mountains

called by the Sacred One

called to live
to be ecstatically
children of the Most High

we are called to dance
and spin and leap

dance in our jeans in the middle of the hayfield
dance in our robes in the sanctuary
dance in our suits on the gray pavement of the city

it does not matter who we are
or rather
what this world has made us

we are all the naked child
dancing in the sprinkler on a hot summer day
hands lifted high

this requires only one thing!
that we kiss the Sacred as she flies
that in the power of that act of love
by which we bind ourselves to God

we die to all the definitions
all the definitions
with which we have clothed ourselves
bound ourselves
all these years

dying is scary
but it is the only way
to be born as a child of God

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