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

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Things Past

In the late afternoon
as the wind blows cold off the mountain

I walk a path often traveled

This day there is the smell of wood smoke
Good pine burning

and I am taken back
to a time
when as a pre-schooler I sat
by my mother’s side at girl scout camp (she was the nurse)
and smelled that smell
as the campfire blazed
and the girls sang
“my gals a corker”
“do your ears hang low”
and worse

I am taken back
to boy scout camp

and then to fires around which
my young children romped
as we traveled the west

so many things take us back
to moments profound
moments painful
moments joyful

and we remember things past
and we experience them more profoundly
than we did the first time


all come alive
in the sounds and smells and sights


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