Welcome

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



Sunday, August 14, 2016

Sadness

When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.”
                                                                                 Gustave Flaubert
________________________________

there are days
when I am simply ineffably sad

not just on misty winter day
but bright days too
when the sun shines freely

warming the earth
but not my heart which crumbles still

as I am haunted by my own mistakes
by those times when I have behaved poorly
and said things designed to minimize or wound

because I have done damage
intentionally or un-intentionally

I am sad at times because it feels
as I have squandered the great gifts
I was born with

because I have disappointed myself
And disappointed, perhaps even betrayed others

But mostly I am sad
because the whole world seems to be crumbling
along with my heart

dissolving
into rabid talking points
and angry replies

into distrust and deceit

I am battered by all
the anger and hate

that swirl like free radicals
reactive and uncontained
I know that my heart will smile again
as Spirit moves
and love flows

just not today

No comments:

Post a Comment