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 5, 2016

Creep toward the One

Whether one moves slowly or with speed,
the one who is a seeker will be a finder.
Always seek with your whole self,
for the search is an excellent guide on the way.
Though you are lame and limping,
though your figure is bent and clumsy,
always creep toward the One. Make that One your quest.
By speech and by silence and by fragrance,
catch the scent of the King everywhere.
                             Attributed to Rumi

each day I wake
I am given the gift of another day

some mornings I wake with energy and hope

some mornings I wake up tired,
bent and clumsy,
wanting only the day to be over

and yet each day
step by step
choice by choice

I am on a trek
I am creeping toward the One
I am moving toward the Kingdom
(which is not just there, but also here)

slow, so slowly at times
and at times so fast that I can barely catch my breath

I move toward that place where Sacred is,
where love is

I seek to find it
I seek to make it real

And, there are moments,
often when I least expect it,
that I can smell
briefly on the wind
the barest scent of Sacred love

and I when I see
brief glimpses of the Kingdom

and so I travel on

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