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

Friday, May 11, 2018

lost is lost

Lost is lost

Some times I wander
Starstruck, moonstruck, sunstruck

Looking at this world created
Seeing only
With the eye secular

Seeing only the hate and greed
And fear
And knowing
Too keenly that I am lost
That we are all lost
Wandering around like hit and run drivers
Encapsulated, hard, defensive
Even, aggressive

No wonder there are so many wounded people
Littering our lives

Sometime I dive into the sacred
I become drowned
In the sea of eternity
Sunk into the depths of the sacred
Out of this world
lost in God

But lost is still lost

In a child
Sacred and secular are found
Bound inside the swaddling cloths
Bound inside a child

In a man, dirty feet and all
Shameful death and all
Common and divine are woven

In this one
Who draws together

Creation is invaded by the creator
Creator in the created is bound

And in that single one
In that union

I am found

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