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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, February 5, 2017

Eucharist of the Ordinary

“We seldom notice how each day is a holy place Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens, Transforming our broken fragments Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.”
― John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Invocations and Blessings
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in the evening
my tired soul
is often scattered

broken apart
by the way of the world
by apathy
and betrayal
ingratitude
and essential selfishness ruling the hearts
destroying empathy and compassion

i have wandered through my day
carrying the burden
of anger
and resentment

I have let others erode me

until I almost disappear

and then
in ordinary moments
eucharist happens

moments of sacred favor
which come in common ways

a smile, a hug
sunrise, sunset
a moment of solitude

and then
the day becomes a holy place
and I reborn

find
if only for a moment
the eternal
me

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