Before you pulled us from the dust,
Before there was dust,
You spoke into the primordial stew,
And drew the waters back
To craft dry land.

Father in Heaven,
Sleeping under the stars, 
beneath this wide and holy canopy,
may we be filled with wonder.

“In Your tender compassion, the morning sun has risen upon us…”— Benedictus

Our Father in Heaven,

May sunrise light
The brilliant beams of Creation’s color:
Pale peach, dusty orange, candy pink, and ruby red
Announce with holy hues
The arrival of this new day.

Thank you for produce,
For the food from the ground,
Growing in it, on it, and above it.

Father in Heaven,
May the growth of my neighbor’s weeds
Be an unexpected invitation
To my continued growth and formation.

Father in Heaven,
Thank You for longer days;
When light arrives early, shines brightly,
And after amber sunsets, slowly leaves late.

May I run with consistency
Feeling the ground beneath me,
Hearing the sounds that surround me,
And the stillness that comes inside me,
From my body moving at Godspeed.

May our hearts be wise,
Help us number our summers
With our parents and our children,
Our spouses and our siblings,

Our gardens may not be a significant source of our produce,
they may be only a potted plant or bed of flowers,
but would every garden in our neighborhood be a living reminder of grace and growth.