A Heretic contemplates "most this amazing day"

Some days this is just the poem that fits. Especially on a perfect summer day in Maine like this day.

(Isn't it interesting that having had three spectacular days in a row, all that cold, rainy weather feels like a really long time ago?! I know it happened, but I can hardly remember it in a vivid way.)

Now you may find it a bit odd that having made the point, more than once, that I am happy not to use the word "God" any more, here I am about to use it, or at least to quote someone else using it.

All I can say is that there's something about declaring my theological and vocational independence that makes it seem like not such a big deal. I'm mostly happy to avoid the g-word; and then there are occasions when it's what I choose to do.

I suppose it's that seemingly small but very significant word, choose, that makes the difference. Now I get to choose if, when, how, from what source, and in what context to speak, write, or quote the g-word. Believe me, this was not the case when I was a professional religious person.

Now that I ponder the significance of choosing, I am remembering that the word "heretic" is derived from a Greek word (via ecclesiastical Latin into Old French to Middle English), hairetikos, meaning, able to choose! How cool is that?! I guess that makes me officially a heretic! I've long suspected that might be the case.

OK, now this post has veered so far from its original track that it almost seems I should re-title it (which I did--it was originally simply "most this amazing day". That's one of the things I do love about writing--that it can take you places you don't expect, that you can discover things this way.

In any case, here's the poem I set out to share.

i thank You God for most this amazing

day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth

day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any--lifted from the no

of allnothing--human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e.e. cummings

PS. The image is of one of my painting from last summer, which seems to fit the "leaping greenly spirits of trees" idea.