Behold through our eyes the beauty of this world. Let us feel your breath in our lungs, your cry in our throat.

O you who will walk this Earth when we are gone, stir us awake.

Let us see you in the poor, the homeless, the sick. Haunt us with your hunger, hound us with your claims, that we may honour the life that links us.

You have as yet no faces we can see, no names we can say. But we need only hold you in our mind, and you teach us patience. You attune us to measures of time where healing can happen, where soil and souls can mend. You reveal courage within us we had not suspected, love we had not owned.

O you who come after, help us remember: we are your ancestors. Fill us with gladness for the work that must be done.

Joanna Macy