The ground I stand upon is holy.
The ground I stand upon is great,
The ground I stand upon is glory.
The ground I stand upon is fate.

It can’t be removed.
It can’t be taken.
It can’t be conquered.

Nothing that was,
Nothing that is,
Nothing that ever shall be
Can tear it from beneath my feet.

I belong to it:
I stand upon holy ground.

The ground I stand upon has a thousand faces:
Desert and rainforest,
Mountain and valley,
Riverbed and sea,
Sand and stone.

Yet it is all holy ground.

Beneath every difference,
Betwixt every border,
Beside every name given to it,
It sends its threads deeper
Into the fabric of creation,
Down through bedrock,
To the foundation,
Into the divine blueprint
From which all things arise.

For this ground beneath my feet
Is but one piece of a greater ground,
Joining every land,
Through every time and place,
Until all the Earth
Is but one great and holy land—
Unbroken beneath my feet.

No border can divide it.
No name can contain it.
No people can possess the whole of it.

It belongs to the Unknowable Name,
To the One whom all gods approach,
Whom no title,
No number,
No expression,
No philosophy,
No theory,
Can ever encapsulate.

The One beyond knowing.
The One beyond comprehension.
The One beyond speaking.

And still,
Here it is,
Beneath my feet,
Holding me up,
That I may see the horizon.

No evil may come near this ground.
No hatred may take root here.
No cruelty shall inherit it.
No corruption shall claim it.

For the ground beneath my feet
Is holy ground,
And only what is holy
Shall remain.

It doesn’t matter what surrounds me:
City or wilderness,
Clamour or silence,
Faith or unbelief,
The ground beneath my feet
Runs deeper than them all.

For it is joined
To the greater Ground,
To the rock of all ages,
The dawn of all creation,
The limitless ocean
Of stars that burn beyond knowing.

Here I stand,
Firm and elevated.
Here I know the unbridled freedom
Of ground that reaches into all existence.

Let the world squabble around me.
Let standards crumble.
Let nations rise and fall.
Let them fragment what can’t be divided.

This ground shan’t splinter.
This ground shan’t split.
For the ground beneath my feet
And the firmament of the heavens are one.

My ancestors stood upon this holy ground.
Their roots are in me,
And I blossom in them.

I stand within an ancient well,
Its walls encircle me,
Stone upon stone,
Life upon life,
Generation upon generation,
Protecting the holy waters
That flow beneath my feet.

Rooted in the wellspring,
I drink from their depths,
From the source,
The river of life,
Which flows beneath every people,
Every land,
And every culture.
It flows for those who came before.
It flows for those who are here now.
And it flows for those
Who are yet to come.

Through Israel and Egypt,
Through wilderness and fertile valley,
Through island and continent,
Through nations risen,
Through nations fallen,
Through peoples remembered
And peoples forgotten,
The waters run.

They feed the roots.
They nourish the branches.
They rise through every human tree.

No people own it.
No age exhausts it.

Feeder of the living,
Reviver of the dead,
Every generation is watered
From the same eternal spring.

Behold!
The barren ground bears fruit!
The seed rises!
The branch flowers!
The fields bring forth abundance!

For the Source beneath every source,
The Life within every life,
The One from whom the waters come,
Yields a plentiful harvest.

The waters carry the wisdom
Of all that has been.
What was forgotten
Is remembered.
What was lost
Is found.
What passed beyond the reach of memory
Returns again to knowing.

Nothing is truly ever lost—
It sinks into the waters.
It waits beneath the ground.
It travels beneath nations,
Languages, and civilisations,
And it rises again.
For to drink is to remember,
And to know is to be sated.

How quenched is my thirst.
How revived is my blood.
I drink from the crystal waters
Of that magnificent Source,
Clear and ancient,
Rising from the depths of creation.

For here I stand in Eden
Where the elixir of life flows,
This garden with roots in forever,
Where the gods once stood
And drank from the Source.
Where the ancestors drank,
I drink also.

This is the Centre.
Where every land
And every heart is present.

The pulse of the Earth
Moves through this ground,
And empowers.

It gathers sleep
And raises it into awareness.
It unearths memory
And recollects it.

Here the Sovereign of the Earth
Raises my feet.

For this ground breathes,
Sacred and holy,
And I affirm it,
Living and awake.

And now this holy ground ascends;
It rises.
What was broken is rebuilt.
What was divided is reconciled.
What was wounded is healed.
What has fallen
Is revived and made right.

For this ground reaches not only downward
Into the roots of creation,
But also and upward
Into the stars.

Depth upon depth.
Height upon height.
World within world.

Here, Earth touches heaven,
Deep reveals star,
Until the whole creation
Sings in union,
“We are One.”

By these words
I secure this ground.
By this quicksilver tongue,
It becomes a chariot,
A vessel of sacred earth
Travelling wherever I go,
Across the Earth.
Out through the wheeling galaxies,
This ground comes with me.

This ground is the crucible.
This ground is the crucifix.
It lives in you.
And it lives in me.
This holy ground,
Hosts all who occupy eternity.

Around it now
I raise a fence.
That falsehood shalt not stand here.
Corruption shan’t take root.
Hatred shalt not walk here.
That which falsifies, abnegates, desecrates,
Shalt find no footing.
For this ground is incorruptible;
It knows what serves creation.
And whatever comes against the good of the All
Shall break against it.
Whatever comes to diminish life
Shalt find no home here.
Whatever comes to profane the sacred
Shalt not pass.

For the holy ground doesn’t yield.
It doesn’t bow.
It doesn’t surrender its goodness.

That which can’t stand before truth
Shant stand upon this ground.

And so I hold this ground
For the One who made it.
I stand as its steward
Tending what is given.
Guarding what is sacred.
Keeping it holy
For the One to whom it belongs.

For truly, there is nothing beyond it.
There is no thing outside it.
It is the place from which I rise,
The place where I belong.

Where others see only dirt,
I see the stars beneath my feet.
I see a way of life.

Anything may grow here.
Any form manifest what sovereign will desires

The site of my evolution,
The site of my ascent,
The immovable centre and source,
From whence eternity unfolds.

Here permanence
And transformation
Coexist.

The ground doesn’t move,
Yet everything moves through it.

Soul into body.
Body into earth.
Earth into life.
Life into energy.
Energy into form
And form into the veins of God.

Endless transference. Endless variation,
And beneath it all, the immutable,
Eternal One.

For what changes
May change without end.

And what is eternal
Births circumstance,
All happenstance,
Every act and accident,
Every birth, death, transformation and rebirth.

So let eternity dwell here.
Let it descend through the vines.
Let it rise through the roots.
Let it inhabit the waters,
Let it flourish on the plains,
Let it enter our names
And remember our gait.

Let what has always been
Meet what is yet to come
Here, upon this ground.

And let this ground
Be a single thread
In the great tapestry.
One page
In the eternal book of creation,
One world among worlds,
For upon this ground,
I tread.

And so,
Here, the waters will ever flow.
The fruit will ever ripen.
The path will onward go.

For on this eternal, sacred, holy ground,
I sing,
“Home.”