This is where I lay my sorrows–at the base of a bent and gnarled tree, at the horizon where the grass meets the sky; in the clouds that envelop me; in the hand of a hill reaching down for me.
This is where my peace resides–in the soul of a robin and the sound of a cardinal; in the flight of a dragonfly and the humming of hummingbird wings.
This is where I am alive, where I connect with my ancestors and where I better understand my brothers and sisters. This is where I pray, simply by being. This is my church, my synagogue, my place of worship, and my place in the universe.
This is my temple. This is where my god speaks to me–in the breath of an autumn breeze, in the roar of a winter wind; in the silence where I face myself and my own nature. This is where I find my god.