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

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Over the edge

“O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there.”
                              Gerard Manley Hopkins

Ah the mind has mountains
and cliffs too

and sometimes we fall
we fall
down into the dark valleys

plummeting into frightful places
unable to find something we can grasp
to stop our fearful slide

and yet in those deep places
when we have no place else to go

we find the genesis of our salvation

for in that place, our hand reaching high
we begin again our ascent
into the light

falling upward into grace
and into that new thing
the Sacred has in store

we cannot find this promised land
while hanging grimly to the cliffs
only release will allow us
to fall unto ascent
to die into new life

This is the Sacred paradox
which we must accept and live

other wise we hang
we hang above the abyss
and slowly die

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