May we remember the belonging that is ours simply because we were born.

Beneath the crust of earth, seeds and bulbs lay in store.

One of the Goddess’s best friends was a cardinal—a bright red bird who loved to play with the Goddess and the Sun.

May your kindness abound like hydrogen, which fuels every star.

Beneath the snow, life is bursting, preparing for the next season.

Water sustains, gives, and yields to / Life.

We are living today with time to do good for ourselves and for each other.

My inner compass reminds me of the power we’ve been given to create a new future.

The wilderness alongside every moment, sprawling in each direction, holds more than the silence that theologians imagine of God.

In my chapel, redwing blackbird unravels her liquid song in the cattails.

Blessed is the dark, in which our dreams stir and are revealed. Blessed is the dark of earth, where seeds come to life. Blessed are the depths of the ocean where no light shimmers: the womb of all earthly life. Blessed is the light into which we awake, the light that sparkles on the waters: that...

The strength of water takes on many, many forms—just as each of you has a unique and necessary strength that you bring to our community and to the work of love. Take a moment now to drop down into the deep wellspring of your own spirit and bathe yourself in the strength that is the groundwater of...

Rain falls upon the surface of the earth, and pulled by gravity each drop begins to flow downhill. Drop merges with drop, flowing together, into a trickle, a streamlet, a creek, a mighty river, flowing onward. Some of the water seeps down into the earth itself, as groundwater, or deep aquifers,...

Recognizing the beauty around us and within us, in voice and spirit, we gather to light our chalice. May we savor the beauty of our abundance and diversity, always cherishing one another and our earth. May we remember to inhale the lushness in life knowing that we are a people of beauty.

We live on a fragile island of life, in a universe of possibilities. For many millennia, humans have been on a journey to find answers, answers to questions about naturalism and transcendence, about who we are and why we are, and of course, who else might be out there. Is it really just us?...

I call the tall bush on my back patio “Burning Bush” because in autumn its leaves are a fiery red. All winter long I overlooked three uninhabited nests inside of it. For months and months I could have perceived—but didn’t—what was in plain sight. ...

Humans make maps of stars, choosing some stars, ignoring others, to project our imaginations onto the heavens. These maps shift over time, across cultures. Names change for the same assemblage of bright points: Drinking Gourd, Big Dipper, Plough, Lost Hunters [1], Saptarishi [2]. Humans make...

It would be a quieter holiday, no fireworks or loud parades, no speeches, no salutes to any flag, a day of staying home instead of crowding away, a day we celebrate nothing gained in war but what we’re given — how the sun’s warmth is democratic, touching everyone, and the rain is democratic...

When all around us voices are raised in anger, hatred spilling into the streets and sparking more hatred, sometimes the best we can do is to sink our hands into the soil. Let the fights over abstractions ebb away, flow like water into the earth....

EARTH, clay from which we are made and to which we will return. Soil, rich and aromatic, crumbling in my fingers, dark under my nails. This, cleansing dirt, the natural filter for aquifers, holds life....