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, October 13, 2018

with hands empty

“That which we die for lives as wholly as that which we live for dies.”
― e.e. cummings

He lived for 93 three years
my old friend

when but a spritely 90 he asked his doctor how he was doing
compared to other men his age

“they are in the ground” his doctor said
“well I will not be in the ground” he replied
“I will be soaring in the skies”

life and death
we are so often confused
thinking that the life for which we fight
is life indeed
when instead it is a sort of death

and we think that death
that dark specter
is something to fear
when instead it is a sort of freedom

it is a funny thing
that the more the we cling to things
the more they cling to us

and weigh us down
and so we plod, we plod
unable to soar

our self turns in on our self
and we are trapped
living for self we die

but when we let go
better yet, when we not only let go
but offer that to which we have clung, to others
we are able to travel light
and love given become love returned
hope given becomes hope returned

dying to self we live

This is God’s economy
Where giving we gain
Where losing we win
Where dying we gain

God must be at least a little bit weird

And yet in a strange way we know
this way is true

when hands full
we find that what we grasp decays

when hands empty
we can reach for the stars
and “catch the joy as it flies” (Blake)

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