And somehow, at my great grandmother's grave,
as tears watered the graveyard dirt,
I swear that the holding of hands
the sharing of story
the shedding of tears
the hearts broken open
and the strength of the prairie wind sang Alleluia
and rolled that stone away,
opened that grave,
and for a few shining moments
let light shine through with new life.
Death came to life again;
as if we were, together,
as if she had risen from the grave;
because, in fact, she did.
- Rev. Luke Stevens-Royer
There’s no reason to be hopeful.
But reason isn’t all we’ve got.
We have springtime birds returning,
redwing blackbirds, bluebirds, herons.
They are harbingers of miracle.
We have memories of those we’ve loved and lost
and would honor with our lives,
and tenderness beyond imagining.
We have each other to look out for,
and our crazy, ancient, countercultural, idealistic dreams of justice, mercy, freedom, peace and beauty.
Like people always, everywhere,
we will practice resurrecti