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, July 28, 2018

Rise up

“The sun shines not on us but in us.”
― John Muir

“Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien

The unyielding earth
Beneath my feet

Dry grass wilting, drying
Brittle and dusty

I wander aimlessly in the
Late dark early light
Of a waning moon

Greyness hovers
And only a sliver of pale pink
On the horizon heralds the coming sun

Such grayness feels comfortable this day
this day where yet again dark things will happen
this day where once again greed will make choices that harm
and hate will make choices that exclude
and fear will make choices that take the world down the path of cruelty

such grayness feel comfortable
as it matches the grayness in my soul
in these days when the darker angels of our nature
have been given the clarion call to action
by those who have profane power

it seeps into one’s soul
this darkness
trickling down
oozing its way deep into our souls

but still there is that sliver of light
still there is that place from which life comes
that somehow cannot be touched
cannot be totally destroyed

if we wait patiently
eyes on the horizon
the light will surely grow

if we wait patiently
and with intensity focus on the light
as it flickers deep in our soul
down in that place where the remnants of our
Sacred heritage still stir

It will surely grow

And as the gray of morning slowly gives way
To pink, to yellow, and then to brilliance
So too
The grayness of our souls
Will be touched by the light
Of that which formed and sustains the universe

Wake oh sleepers
Rise up
Wake up, oh better angels of our nature

There is work to be done

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