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

Monday, July 27, 2015

broken open

“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.”
― Rumi

I want to hide
I am tired of all the things
which make my heart hurt

the hate
the prejudice
tha anger
the fear
and yes, the death

And then there are all those things
which seem beyond my control
and make me
an anxious old man

looking over my shoulder
trying to quiet
an over active mind

I must face it all
the things I hate and fear
my failures and mistakes
the anger and disappointment of those I have failed

I must rouse myself
I must engage
although my heart break

for only with a mind
a heart
a soul broken open

to the cold winds of desolation
to the looming possibility of hurt
and rejection

to the pain of being forced
to see myself with stark honesty
the good and the bad

may I also be open
to the warmth of
hope and

life is not
for the faint of heart

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