Holy Emotion, always in motion from gladness to sadness and back again across a life and through the ages; so many sighs are greater than the winds ceaselessly moaning across the empty wastes; fleeing from destroying and controlling powers is the only way through to a next breath; separate yourself from the rush of our winds, and send us into spaces of quietude not of our own making where we can rest. Amen.
Lord of the Race, Keeper of Time, who, breathing, breathlessly holds all Creation together; we gasp for breath having only taken a few small steps to keep up with our neighbor's neighbor; fearing for our trammeled souls molded by beaten paths, we seek not only a way but the gumption to get on with it so as to endure. Amen.
God in whom we live and have our very being, who enlivens all death, who effortlessly turns the pages of the Book of Life, who dances on graves, and who says "Yes" to every "No," the leaves fall, the ground hardens, the buried rest and we must go on living. The earth continues to turn and so many of those in the world continue their death-dealing ways. Dwell with us once again so we may join you in your divine dance holding hands with all of the ones who have gone before us into your music. Amen.
God who knows the weight of the universe, driving down the frenzied highway of life we glance and see the future in our rear-view mirrors holding a sign reading, "The end is near." We wonder what strange powers order letters into these particular words. What message attempts to come to life and be declared? Are we missing something important, something everyone else but us knows? If we are the last to hear and to understand will that endanger the lives of our loved ones? Our questions cling to our bodies and weigh us down. Give us strength to gently shudder them to the ground so that on this day and in this hour and at this time we can breathe and get on with living. Amen.
God of the Pedestaled and of the lowly base, in the midst of the upright and tumbled we strive to climb, we yearn to settle down, seeking a bit of fortune and some fame, deliver us from those who only clamber noisefully upward to the heavens of their own making while stepping, worse eliminating, the ones who are happy with step-by-step. Amen.
Creator of all days, Sender of the morning brilliance, Our growing out of seeds in darkness Brings fruit to the edge of underground Where we wait for the first light. Make us shine and become ablaze to burn away all the layers of dross meant to keep us in our place. Amen.
Creating Word of the World where words can be formed into questions, we come to you on syllables of air - perhaps seeking answers lying fallow on frozen fields - but more in search of interpretations and explanations leading to more questions and to more questions. We ask all this quietly for subtle guidance so as not to stir those who debate the placement of letters on the page, for their rage seeks to control all that dwells in their midst. Amen.
Holy Sender, sending Creation into Being, send strength for the brutes and wolves have been sent into the fields to play as well. Amen.
God, who strolls in the garden and in the desert, who walks the sea and down from the mountaintop, who dares to become human out of curiosity and who dwells in our midst where we are gathered, sometimes your steps are so wide apart that our all-too-human strides stumble and trip trying to keep up with the latest demands of our own interpretation of your holy ways. Pick us up and dust us off once again and as many times as is needed so we may more than dream but yearn to walk with you. Amen.
God of fruits that feed and nourish, God of dangers that puncture and cut, light the porches of well-being; for while you hand out treats in places we find so hard to discover, we seek the tricks of promises for an easy eternity, looking in the fields of fortune for the harvests of fame. Amen.