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

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