Sunday, September 14, 2014
I was in a tent the other night and i listened, really listened to the chorus that was going on all around me. I was struck that i had not heard that song in a long time, probably months. The problem is not with the chorus, but with i, the listener. I used to journey into the woods behind my parents' house, my childhood home, almost every night to sit in awe of that song and hear the ancient and primal wisdom that those peoples of the night speak of. But, we get busy and distracted and we forget what is important. But that night, i listened with the ears of a worshipper to that song.
I truly believe that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. It is all around us and our forms and illusions are broken down in the embracing darkness of the night. We can understand things there when we get beyond the pollution of the street lamps and the computer screens. Our form is an illusion of the daylight according to Loren Eiseley, and in the darkness of a forest, we begin to melt into the universe.
What is expected of Heaven? Angels singing eternal praise to the Almighty? They are there. That is them. The chorus of the woods is that angel choir. Peepers, crickets, bullfrogs, katydids, all the people of the forest open their throats and sing of primal things, beauty that surrounds and explodes in a cacophony of praise and Thanksgiving. My soul is eased when i get out there and listen. Our stories are small in the scope of that song. It is beautiful and when i sit alone in the woods and the darkness, i am part of it. Sometimes i can not help but open my throat and allow the swelling chorus to rise up out of my own lungs.