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, December 27, 2019

the gift of emptiness

I am made mostly
of coffee and empty spaces

and I wander through each day
perhaps, simply to stay awake
(hence the coffee)

but seeking
to let the Sacred dance in the empty spaces

it surprises me sometimes
how many empty spaces there are
in my soul

and I have come to realize, that these spaces
are a gift

they are the places I have chosen
to make room
to make room for the child of Christmas

once upon a time
my soul was stuffed
with ego, and ambition
with the need to please and be pleased

once my soul was littered
with my failures, and disappointments

once I was heavy
with fear, and regret
with greed

with all the miseries of humankind

and I still am
as people call evil good, and good evil
as money is deemed more important than people
as cruelty and retribution are gleefully embraced

and I still am
as I remember how I once failed so miserably
and allow myself to wander into the house of regret

but then
I think of the baby
Yes that one
That peasant boy
Crying for his mother’s breast

That one
Whose parents had to grab him and run
Run, run, run
From hate, from sword, from death
A refugee God

An immigrant God
Coming to me
Asking for space
Asking me to make room

Just a little room
That he might find a place to dwell

Asking only that I let love enter

I think of the baby
And I let go of that mistake
I let go of fear
I let go of anger

Space for the Spirit to move
Space for the wind to blow
For the fire of love to rage

For love to dance
To move through my tattered soul

The more space
The more God
The more space
The more grace
The more space
The more love

That is just the way it works
With our Dancing God

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