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, May 7, 2017


“Hearts Live By Being Wounded”
― Oscar Wilde


my heart beats,
faithfully keeping time
with the music of my soul

racing at times
at times skipping a beat

it is fragile and permeable
so many things touch it

alas, so many things wound it
greed and hate
Oh yes

All actions of those who would use and abuse
other people
the land

right now my heart feels

and yet
when I return to my heart
bleeding as it is

I find it pulses still with hope
For this heart knows there are other heart
Other precious souls

That dance to the same music
That there are people who seek justice
And equity
Who want to protect the vulnerable
And help those in need
Who have compassion not pity
And who build up, rather than shape

It is in our mutual woundedness that we find each other
And our blood mingles
In the sharing of the cup
That blood
And in the breaking of the bread
That body

And so we live

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