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, February 1, 2019

Can't see the love for the love

It is a terrible thing when passion blinds

when our deep love of these Sacred infused
makes us unable to see to the tortured soul
holding them fast within her body

when we simply disregard her fear or pain
and do not understand her despair

it is a weighty matter
yes or no, life and death

but whatever the answer
there is one here who cannot be forgotten
who is not nothing

but is as well Sacred infused
child of God

We have slipped into foulness
down that steep slope of fear and essential selfishness
when love of country
blinds us to love of people
and  love of power
blinds us to what is right,
and to embrace that which is not true?

We stand in an empty place
Cold and implacable when all those things we hold most dear
Money, power, even faith
Cause us to lose sight of others

the ill, the poor
the flawed, the wounded

the different
the strange
the difficult

When in the name of One who welcomes all
and sees all,
we exclude, shame, and minimize

On this winter’s morn
as I stand
under the shadow of the mountain
and watch the final stars scatter before the sun

I ponder the mystery
that in the name of Love we chose hate
that we love so much we cannot love

and my soul cries out
with a painful shout

for a passion so strong
a love so deep
that it expands into the vastness of this great Love
and embraces all

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