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

Friday, September 16, 2016

New again

“We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers,
Upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers,
Of the world forever, it seems.”
― Arthur O'Shaughnessy, Poems of Arthur O'Shaughnessy

It seems like only yesterday
I was comfortably ensconced in summer

Sun and heat and dust
The heavy stolid  brown grandeur
of naked mountains
thrusting into deep blue skies

dog days of August warm and sleepy

but in the pale light
there came a winter dawn
as the wind like wild dogs rushed
swirling around me cold
and biting

and the grass sparkled
reflecting the light of a late moon
and early sun
pale and icy

the promise of snow in the air
of a world falling into winter

We can scream to the heavens
and lament the passing of what is
but change will not fail to come

why not embrace what comes?
dancing in the brilliant leaves of fall
gliding on the bright snow of winter
knowing that all this too
will pass and spring will come
and all will be new


why not embrace what comes?
for in all the changes
things die, so that something new can be born
the old passes away
behold the new comes

when all seems lost
and we feel forsaken
on us the sun shines,
on us the pale moon still gleams;

and we can move forward
sun child, moon child, sacred child,
into whatever is next

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