Bind me back to a time,
when religion was not
another word for psychology;
when the shaman’s journey
or the Christmas Mass
told the story of relationship,
illuminated the ties that bound
life to life to
We work too hard now-
what does my life mean?
How does the past haunt today?
Who are all these voices clamoring inside?
why not invite it all in and serve tea?
And afterwards, gently,
walk the line between earth and water and sky,
hum a hymn from childhood,
not one of us arose from independent nothingness.
Reweave yourself, but intuitively,
in the meal served,
in the hat knitted and passed on,
in the laughter at the grocery check-out line.
If sin is simply all that is “unripe”,
then explode with flavor, with juice,
or if it is time,
with a fearless releasing to earth.
Live interwoven with it all,
and tell me
where then can you really fall?