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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, July 4, 2025

In the middle of the Storm

They don’t call it Hurricane Creek for nothing

a summer storm

holding nothing back, rushes down the canyon

exploding in the valley

wind and rain, if not fire

punishing the trees and grasses

 

along a fence they have gathered

black mama cows

huddled tight

protecting their white babies

 

love

creating a communion

a circle of love

 

protection comes

and hope too

from the God of love

who draws us together into community

where generosity and compassion live

and all

though maybe not of one mind

are of one heart

and give to each other, as any have need

 

sometimes the storms tear through

our lives

 

we are battered by those who follow

the hate-gods

and whose collective fanaticism

rends and tears our souls

and the fabric of human community

 

there is no healing from those false communities

bound by a desire to punish

or control

 

there is no cruelty

like the cruelty of those bound

by resentment and hate

 

only one thing can protect us

and the vulnerable souls among us

 

it we stand

together

butts to the wind

leaning into each other in love

creating a circle of compassion

 

I need you

You need me

We need each other

 

For every storm runs out of rain (Maya Angelou)

And we must not tire

Of doing good

for, unless we quit

or forget to stand together

 

ultimately

the storm will pass

and love will win

 

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