April 6, 2009


Every day is a god, each day is a god, and holiness holds forth in time.  I worship each god, I praise each day splintered down, splintered down and wrapped in time like a husk, a husk of many colors spreading, at dawn fast over the mountains split.


I wake in a god.  I wake in arms holding my quilt, holding me as best they can inside my quilt.  
Someone is kissing me - already.  I wake, I cry "Oh," I rise from my pillow.  Why should I open my eyes?

- Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm

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