May the earth beneath their feet be the drum that awakens the silent heartbeat of the human spirit with every step. 

To the music of their soles, may snow dance and clouds tumble and part, revealing the light of the sun on the dark horizon. 

Barren branches in the dead of winter will yield ripe fruit of renewal, and douse the desert in life saccharine. 

A bleeding heart that drips oil will froth and foam into sweet water, churning mica and mud like starlight into midnight. A reignition of what it means to wholly love one another. 

Even the magma hidden beneath loam and soil, roils in response to the pursuit of justice. 

Let not the voice of the earth fall upon steel, wires and oil rigs, but flesh and bone. Hope and compassion. 

By the sacred spirit of the Land and Gift of Creation, may your humanity be the invitation home that journeys us to healing.

- Rev. Dr. Ryan Tate