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

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

the eucharist of the ordinary

“We seldom notice how each day is a holy place Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens, Transforming our broken fragments Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.”
― John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Invocations and Blessings

in the evening
my tired soul
is often scattered

broken apart
by the way of the world
by apathy
and betrayal

i have wandered through my day
carrying the burden
of anger
and resentment

I have let others erode me

until I almost disappear

and then
in ordinary moments
eucharist happens

moments of sacred favor
which come in common ways

a smile, a hug
sunrise, sunset
a moment of solitude

and then
the day becomes a holy place
and I reborn

if only for a moment
the eternal

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