Under the large wooden beams of the old church

Its expansive space

The vaulted ceiling, so high, reaching towards the gods

The sun shining in, streaming through like colored ribbons through the stained glass windows





I lay on my mat, eyes closed

The harmonium hums, an angel’s voice chants

Offers it up to Lakshmi

A beautiful woman in a hijab walks past

I feel her energy, and let it open my eyes

Watch her walk

I can see the dust in the light beams

A red hue from the pictured glass

All love, all love




A man with long dreadlocks and yellow loin cloth walks by

A huge smile on his face

A Sikh man stands in the corner

We all chant Om

Tears stream down my face

All is love, All is connected

A young Buddhist monk comes to pay respects

Holding prayer beads to keep track of his mantra

Book in the other hand




Fierce Goddess Kali, watch over us

As Jesus hangs on the cross on the wall

All one, all one

An old toothless woman in a long flowing skirt walks into the old church

Long silver hair

The wisdom of the earth in her eyes

The power of healing in her hands

She speaks with the plants

I can hear the deep drum beat and the chant of a native tribe

Feel its deep hum

Still there, still there

And we all chant Om

I move on my mat and dedicate my practice to Ahimsa and to love

We hold space in this sanctuary

It is our church, it belongs to us all




A sweet man of cinnamon hue puts his mat next to mine

So close, so close

Our hands brush against each other

Small children’s laughter fills the space of the old church

Little girls with flowers in their hair

Little boys in yarmulkes

They hold hands, and run in circles

We bow

We honor

Prayer hands to heart

Om Shanti, Om Shanti

We all move through life the same

We all meet in this sacred space, and pause

We all breathe

Inhale divisiveness, exhale unity

All one, All one