Text: My love, where will we live? And what will we eat? When the sea rises to the window? Illustration: A woman lies in bed gazing at her sleeping partner. A candle in a dark room burns down.
Text: Any health we have, we have in common. Image: A circle is split into four parts: A sun shining on a garden growing squash, a green hill, a moon seen through a window
Text: Any sickness we have, we have in common. Image: A circle is split into four parts: A big red sun, a hill burning with forest fire, a waning moon above rising ocean waters
Text: How heavy, the deep water. How sweet, the hope. Image: The moon is gradually obscured by dark, rising waters. Then it is revealed, standing stark in a bright blue sky.
Text: The problem of the climate crisis is a failure of language. The right word would be as long as the whole world. Image: Oak tree in Summer, full of bright green leaves and acorns
Text: The right word would be as long as the lives of my grandchildren. And their grandchildren. Image: Oak tree in Autumn, mostly without leaves. A single acorn drops.
Text: Brother sun, sister moon, sister heavens: What do you have to say? Image: Starry sky at night, with a full moon. In parallel: Blue sky at sunset, with a full, yellow sun.
Text: What is "the environment" except my body, and your body, and the breath between us? Image: A wheat field blows in the wind. A yellow sun bakes down on a dry, brown valley.
Text: I will protect it with my life. Image: Small yellow sun surrounded by thousands of rays of light
Text: Have you heard the humming at the heart of everything? There is nothing here that is not sacred. Image: A candle, a jar of flowers, a street scene with a streetlamp, glowing window, and moon.
Text: At the end of the day, we will all rest. Finally. Truly. Image: A room gradually darkens as day turns to night. Sunset outside a single window. A candle is lit on a table.
Text: The song at the heart of everything. Image: Round sun shines over green hills; a round moon in a starry sky shines over dark hills.
Text: What do we owe to the powerful who lied for decades? Image: A dark figure sits behind a large desk. Spots of shining oil fall and fill the screen.
Text: What do we owe to our children's children? Image: A red sun rises. A delicate flower. A child sleeps.
Text: Can you imagine the community that will heal the climate crisis? It will not be just you. It will not be a technological salvation. It will be all of us.
Text: Can you imagine all of us, trusting each other, working together for our common home? Image: a fruiting citrus tree
Text: We cry out, and creation groans—for healing, and for rest. Image: A burning pink sky, a red sun and a bare tree with sparks. Below that, a dark night with fruiting branches & full moon.
Text: Enough of disruption and extraction—how beautiful, the quiet work of maintenance: To repair the worn-down, to mend the torn. Image: A dirty tile floor cleaned; torn seam is mended with sashiko
Text: To bind up the broken, and slowly make all things new. Image: An overgrown garden is weeded; a broken stone wall is mended
Image: Dark, forbidding clouds fill the sky. A small peek of pink-yellow sunset / sunrise is visible on the horizon.
Text: We are not alone as we fight for this place. We sing all together with the soil, and trees, and sky, and the whole material world. Image: Various green plants arranged in a circle
Text: Oh my love, we are not the beginning. And we will not be the end. Image: An enormous yellow sun
