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, September 24, 2014

hard heart

the acorn lies there
alone on the hard surface of the sidewalk

the day is warm
and the nurturing rain drifts down
soaking the ground and the seed

everything is in place
for the seed to take root
and from that seed
a tree emerge

a wonderful living gift
where birds can repose
and in whose shadow
lovers can adore

but one thing is missing
rich, fertile soil
broken open

and so the seed lies there
on the hard surface of the side walk

how often Lord
am I like the sidewalk
so set in my thinking
so cemented in my ways
so closed
that my hear (soul?) is like concrete (stone)

how many seeds
have you sent
that have never bloomed

how many gifts have never been

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