Riddle me this
Moses found me in the fruit of the bush that burns,
but you could go to the high place in Edom,
and eat of the thorn apple, and sweat, and be on fire,
and I may not speak to you.
Shamans found me in the dark of the caves,
but you could go to the Dordogne,
drum and chant for days,
sit at the end of the deepest tunnels,
and I may not appear to you out of the rock.
George Fox found me at the top of Pendle Hill
but you could climb a steep hill in Lancashire,
and stare out over the land,
and I may not visit you with a vision
of a people to be gathered.
You don’t have to travel to find me,
but you do have to find your own way.
I am not outside you, and nor yet within you,
but if you inhabit these two areas together
so they are not-two,
you will bring me near.
I am always between yesterday and tomorrow.