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, March 7, 2015

Beloved Child

“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is something valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch.”
― E.E. Cummings

The cacophony of the world

The sound of voices
Birds singing
Trees whispering
Dogs barking
People wailing

All fades away
As one wanders deep
Into the silent and mysterious darkness
That is the soul

And there in the echoing silence
We hear the voice of the Beloved One

Who says in tone sepulcher
Here is my child

And then bursts forth joyfully

“Damn, I do good work”

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