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

Saturday, August 12, 2017


Come. . .

Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving—it doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times.
Come, and come yet again, come, come.

Come join the journey
We are all headed the same direction, toward death
We are all headed to the same destination, love

And all are welcome on this journey
Dancers and plodders
Those who wander
And those who march with purpose
Those who believe, and those who wonder
Those who embrace, and those who detatch

Whoever you
Faithful and faithless

Come even though you have stumbled
Or fallen
Come even though you have turned back
Or wandered off

Come, if you think you know where you are going
Or if you don’t

Come, come
Keep coming
Come yet again

For love is waiting

No comments:

Post a Comment