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, October 3, 2018

peace in the wild things

“The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”
― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

I wake in the night
Despair for the world creeping, seeping, into my soul

Despair over children caged
Despair over men with power, saying that rape doesn’t matter
Despair over men of “faith” supporting the unsupportable

Despair that my beloved country has lost its moral compass
That money is more important that people
And more important than the earth

Despair over a church that would exclude anyone
In spite of the fact that those it claims to follow, welcomed everyone

Despair over my own tiredness
And the difficulty of getting, creatively, through one more day

Despair because I see no way forward for people of color
Or immigrants
Or women
Or children

Our nation is filled with fear and hate
Greed and grasping
Old white men with dead eyes, lying
Or proving through their words, that their hearts and souls have grown small
So small

Today the woods call
Time for a hike into the true
Along the winding waters
Up to where the cool winds blow
And the eagles soar

But today there is no peace in the wild things
Only the noise of dead souls talking
And so I cannot rise

Not in this moment

But dogs must be walked
And the sun still shines
And the stars will come out
And the coyotes will laugh

So who knows?

Perhaps, perhaps
God is after all

All about resurrection

No comments:

Post a Comment