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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



Friday, February 20, 2015

Waking up to strangeness


waking up to strangeness
this is not my place

I remember vaguely the car drive
am aware that I soon will slide
my body into a metal tube
and be hurled through the sky to a place far away

I am thrilled to be going
for family awaits
Ryan, Erin, Mara, and Rory
(whom I have never seen in the flesh)

but I am aware that more than
ever, as I grow older
I am becoming a person of roots
one who cherishes the small lot in the woods
and the mountain that looms over it
even the cursed junipers which hide my paradise from the world

perhaps with time roots must go deeper

as this body and mind slowly tire
my roots must wander into the depths
to find the Sacred
the spring of living water

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