Spirit of Life,
You who rise blossoming in our hearts
as well as in the wildflowers:
Now is the time when hundreds of species of birds
sing at the tops of their lungs,
the dawn chorus a symphony of joyous beauty. A
nd hundreds of species of flowers show their bright colors.
It is also the time when the earth’s creatures
begin to mate and lay eggs and give birth,
to hatch and to nurse
to consume vast quantities of food
in preparation for becoming.
Lambs and kids frolic on hillsides and in pastures,
the very embodiment of joy.
Little green caterpillars hang from threads in oak trees.
Baby birds are big open beaks set in little balls of fuzz,
squawking to be fed.
Spring is a glorious time to be alive.
And yet it is the most dangerous time of the year for younglings,
the time when they are most vulnerable to predation.
Hawks may eat the chicks of owls and vice versa.
Robins feed hundreds of green caterpillars to their babies.
Lambs are prey to a host of diseases.
Life here on this blue-green planet,
this little rock orbiting an ordinary star,
is so precarious.
Every species is food for another.
Even we get recycled.
We might think that this cycle of life and death and life again
is mysterious and difficult enough
for us to ponder with awe and fear.
Yet humans seem always to be able
to add more fear to the mix.
We Americans can’t know if our next trip to the grocery store
or a concert or a day at school or work
will end in bloody carnage.
Families of color must wonder every single day
if all of their members will come home.
And so we come together, week after week,
to cultivate love.
To remind each other that love is strong as death.
To remind each other that it is not a given
that terror will have the last word.
That there are other possibilities
we may not yet have imagined.
We come together, week after week,
to be each other’s refuge.
To imagine new ways of being.
To be each other’s light.
To remind each other who we truly are:
beloved children of the universe.
To hold each other in love so strong and so deep
that there is no room in it for fear.
May we ever rest in this love.
Blessed be.

Yes yes we know all about the news but have you seen the way the tall grass is spangled with fallen cherry blossoms? And how the new oak leaves glow translucent pale green against the achingly blue sky? The Ceonothus is exploding with blooms that verily define the color purple, so vivid are they against the glossy dark green leaves, and fat furry bumblebees striped in yellow and black hover busily among the tiny pistils and stamens. Redbuds stretch out limbs clothed in glorious deep pink, wildflowers bloom on hillsides and creek banks, and newts find each other in the cold clear waters. Birds sing Gloria! in the morning and frogs sing of love at night.
For Rebecca
Spirit of Life, source and ground of our being:
Spirit of Life, moving source of all we know:
Spirit of Life, Spirit of Beauty and of Springtime:
Spirit of Life,
Spirit of Life, you who are the greening of the world:
Spirit of Life, source of all love: