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, November 26, 2017

Grief feels like fear

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”
                             C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

another day
another shooting
more innocents dead

more excuses
more game playing

another day
more politics of greed
more people left behind
along the trail of “America First”

who is “America”?
the angry white men with rifles?
the smugly rich in Washington DC
the millionaires and billionaires

the haters, the racists?

I have struggled to put a name to that which
like a dense fog, lingers in my soul
and obscures the sun

but today I recognize that it is grief
a grief that feels like the fear,

the fear that we have so departed
from the way of justice and equity
so departed from the way of generosity and compassion

that we will never again, truly thrive
this grief tires me
it wears me down and makes my body ache

and there is nothing I can do, in my grief
except turn to Love
that Love embodied in Jesus
and know that this love will endure, beyond
all the casual abuse,
beyond this momentary hell


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