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, November 14, 2014


“I heard a preacher say recently that hope is a revolutionary patience….. Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up.”
― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life


It is dark
a frigid wind blows
freshly fallen snow
across frozen ground

a dead world
dark, cold, and rigid

walking I am bent forward
fighting the wind
eyes down
cursing the darkness and the cold

but then light grows
slowly, weakly
and I see the tracks of a deer
and then a covey of quail scurrying into the brush

overhead a flock of honkers
make their patterned way south

I see the world come alive

sometimes our souls feel like winterscape
life seems cold and hard
sometimes bitter

all seems out of control
we are bent forward into the wind of despair

sometimes all we can do is keep walking
with “revolutionary patience”

all we can do
is keep looking for the light
and keep our eyes wide open for signs of life

and hope

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