We must protect each others sanctuaries,
cup them in our hands,
nourish them.
Mosques or Temples, Churches or Yoga studios, it doesn’t matter,
to live in peace we must protect each other’s sanctuaries.
Some sacred places are nightclubs for queer folk,
others are 12 step meetings,
or bars where friends gather every night.
Each one is wrapped in bright garland,
invisible to the eye but clearly seen by the heart.
My sanctuaries have been groves of Trees older than our nation,
gardens made by loving elders,
and an Ocean cove where I might swim without being swept out to sea.
I’ll protect your sanctuary if It’s a holy mountain you go to only once or twice in your lifetime, or a Kiva that is older than we can understand.
I’ll protect your sanctuary if it’s a bend in the river where you know the right fly to use every day of the year, or how your kayak will fit through that gorge when the water is low.
I’ll protect your sanctuary if it’s at the speedway, or a seat on the 50 yard line or the nose-bleed bleacher section that was all you could afford this year.
I will help rebuild your sanctuary if it is desecrated in the many ways people can ruin things.
Your sanctuary will become part of my life, my heart, my spirit.
When I protect your sanctuary, mine grows even more holy.
