Early in the morning, before the children are awake and while the grass is still dewy, I like to walk in my garden. It’s “my” garden only because it shares the same small plot of land my family and I inhabit. The garden does not really belong to me; I belong to it—at least for the short time...

When I begin to bless this food and close my eyes I lose myself first just in green: how do leaves grow themselves this green and how do they grow at all to be so large and how do they make themselves from soil which in itself is only brown and sunlight helps and water but how is the end of this,...

Who cast a spell over my world? Who opened the doors, stirred the crowd of possibilities, put gold dust in my dreams causing my life to turn? O Fate, O Love, O Spirit, O God: is it true that all good things must end? Or have you set me on a path of meaning Not luck Of clarity Not magic And this...

Divine spark from sacred dark Symbol of our holy intent Illuminate this hour.