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, July 5, 2016

feeling human

“having returned from the woods, we remember with regret its restfulness. For all creatures there are in place, hence at rest.   In their most strenuous striving, sleeping and waking, dead and living, they are at rest.   In the circle of the human we are weary with striving, and are without rest.”
― Wendell Berry, What Are People For?: Essays

I feel tired
I am sure I look tired

Hey look!  Walking cadaver coming through
Perhaps it is being 65 (almost)

Perhaps it is too many years of being a human
And then doing some more


for the restfulness of being
just who I am
doing what I feel called to do
by my inner spirit

not what a myriad of voices
scream at me to do

perhaps if I learn
from the doe asleep in my flower bed
the cat asleep on my computer
even that rock chuck
sunning itself on (of course) a rock

I might begin
to look
and feel


No comments:

Post a Comment