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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, June 5, 2014

One Step at a Time

Wandering down the dusty road
chasing a killdeer that seemed content
to shame my speed
dodging back and forth
singing its song
taunting perhaps
the sagging gray haired creature
which followed him all around was peace
other birds sang from fence posts
ground squirrel play tag in the grass
baby calves kicked up their heels
with riotous joy
the breeze gently blew
while the sun slowly sank behind the mountains
bright white metamorphosing
into gold and pink
shadows creeping into the woods
slinking from tree to tree
my soul gently sank into the warm
embrace of the sacred
which hugged me to itself
and matched me breath by breath
step by step

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