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

Thursday, August 25, 2016

The fire never dies

The fire that never dies is ever in my heart.
What was the melody of the minstrel played last night?
Though time has passed, my head is still full
 Of that tune.

Last night, Your love's voice sang out in my heart
and the space in my breast is still full of its echoes. "

- Hafiz

O Sacred One
There are moments when it is all so clear
Your presence
Your love

There are moments when it is like
Hand touching
Lips touching for the first time

I try so hard
(without trying)
To love you
And fill my head with thoughts
That question and confuse

I make it difficult
And blur your presence
Dilute your love

But always there remains
That spark, that fire
That burns quietly

When I have tired,
and have given up,
dejected by my fruitless toils

That spark busts into flame
And the space within
Is filled
With your

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