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

Saturday, January 31, 2015

Dissolving in the Infinite

I have opened all the windows in my house
Any words that are spoken about me go in and out

For I have eagles flying around inside

Anything my ears might detect, firsthand or second,
I might give a moment's attention

and then just let it be the tiny evaporating whiff of smoke it is,
dissolving in the Infinite.


standing in the middle of a gravel road
I look at infinity
a cerulean sky that goes on forever
mountains that reach out to the heavens
birds on the wing
honking madly as they
fly and swoop
and then slowly disappear into the blue expanse

and there I am
just me
and I am free, for the moment
from all the voices that would define me

outer voices of criticism and praise
inner voices of criticism and praise

and in that moment
I let the Sacred wind blow
through the open windows of my soul

bringing with it the vastness of creation
the soaring greatness of eagles on the wing
the clean crispness of spring air

and my fears and
all those limitations and definitions imposed by
others, and by myself

and in that moment I know only one thing
I am a sacred child

Friday, January 30, 2015

Heart Talk

Heart Talk, Speaking like Music

"I wish I could speak like music. 
 I wish
 I could put the swaying splendor for fields into words
 so that you could hold Truth against your body
 and dance."     Hafiz

I wish I could speak

Oh, I speak a lot
To clients
to my church

I throw words out there
that are often clever
sometimes profound
even eloquent

or so I am told

But sometimes it is clear
that words are not enough
that somehow with the words
must come
(for lack of a better word)

Words must have companions
one's being
one's self
one's energy
one's heart and soul
must journey with them

It is when my words
are woven into the fabric of who I am
that they begin to sing
to be

that stirs the heart and soul of others
that touches them
with truth

and stirs in their soul
the faint whisperings of the divine
and binds my soul, my heart to theirs

Grant me God
the grace
the depth
the fullness
so that I might speak like music

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Sacred Places

There is no spot on earth that ever became sacred until something danced there
maybe it was just an atom or two...
There is no place in existence that ever became sacred until something sang there
even it just be a molecule, that is enough.  I hear they croon all the time...
Strange the seriousness I see a around the shrines of perfect saints.....

I love my sacred places
Those special spots, where my soul danced
and my heart sang

Those places where time stopped
and the moment was eternal

These are my shrines
my "God places"
where the sacred broke through

It might be a place where
I saw my child play
or heard music of inexpressible beauty

It might be a place where sitting side by side
with someone deeply loved
the mundane was turned into the sacred

It might be a place
where family gathered, and celebrated

or a place where goodbyes
eternal, or otherwise
were said

These are the places where
I dance my faith...
and sing for joy to the heavens

where there is laughter
and the heat of love
where smiles break forth

Thank you God
for the moments
the people
the places 
that have opened the gates to heaven!