O Stranger, I open my door and wait for your arrival.
With prayers, I open my door.
With music, I open my door.
With chanting, I open my door.
With meditations, I open my door.
With reading, I open my door.
With rites, I open my door.
With long contemplation, I open my door.
With laughter, I open my door.
With determination, I open my door.
With sorrow, I open my door.
But I can only open my door, Stranger. I cannot make you come. The hour grows dark, and I grow weary.
But even as I gaze out of my lonely door, you have crept in through the window.
Rotting Silver is a column devoted to this Earth in all its tarnished radiance: poetry, prose, and parables of ugliness alloyed with joy.
This piece was first published at The Witch’s Voice.
B. T. Newberg: Since the year 2000, B. T. has been practicing meditation and ritual from a naturalistic perspective. He currently volunteers as Education Director for the Spiritual Naturalist Society, where he is creating an online course in naturalistic spirituality. His writings can also be found at Patheos and Pagan Square, as well as right here at HP.
Professionally, he teaches English as a Second Language. After living in Minnesota, England, Malaysia, Japan, and South Korea, he currently resides in St Paul, Minnesota, with his wife and cat.
After founding HumanisticPaganism.com in 2011 and serving as managing editor till 2013, he now serves as advising editor, and feels blessed to be a part of this community.
Very nice. It brings to mind some of the poetry of Kabir.