Spilling the light
Holy Quiet
This cannot be enough America for me
i have tried to write this three times
A Simple Hope
We offer you an imperfect welcome
Snowflakes: A Guide
Taraxacum
Let my life be forward-reaching
Finding Our Dreams
Let us say to our hearts
A Charm for Hope: A String
being universalist is like
But Why This, Why Now
Blessed Are the Hungry
Am I meant to call up courage?
dear trans*, non-binary, genderqueer and gender-expansive friends and kin: (and those of us whose gender is survival)
The Magic of an Empty Palm
To the people who have mistaken freedom for liberation
Neither divisor nor dividend
The Spark Between
The Wonder of a Fist
everything is still on fire
I cannot prove to you that I am/we are human
Showing up for (F)friend(s)
Being a person of color in America today
Bring your broken hallelujah here
We Hold Hope Close
Prevail: an etymology
There are lots of ways to stay alive
The Elephant in the Room, Every Single Room
The Advice
Notes on a Napkin (White Supremacy)
Boldly, you must hang your light
My grandmother’s grinding stone/El molcajete de mi abuelita
The part that is not water
When your best friend has four or so legs
Codes/witching
We Hold On
The Name of Tyranny
Where Life Sends You
Mitochondrial Gift
Broken Shellsong
Survivor/ship
Remembering the future
Time for the Work
Reversals of Fortune
the butterfly effect
A Rock in Our Pocket
The Life Slow and Precious
America, is this freedom?
Siete principios de unitario universalista, bueno, más el primero
You are not wrong
Stretch
When There Is No Happy Ending

Some people are used to keeping rules; don’t cross
the street when the light is red, only sensible. It turns
out that keeping rules isn’t the same as keeping covenant,
which asks us, instead of keeping a bright line, to keep our
promises.
To what have we promised ourselves? To this
moment in time and place. To this community and even,
tenderly interconnected, this planet.
We promise ourselves to the idea that we
are each and all human beings. We promise that there
is something moving between us that we cannot tame
and cannot measure. The chalice is a reminder
that what flame we keep inside us cannot light the way.
The light must spill to shine.
The thing you must be is yourself.
Unadulterated, shedding the willingness
to journey alone, as though you are made of something
hard and unforgivable. You are human. You belong,
right here, right now. And together, we will chase away
the sickness, the secrets, and leave only the open
Possibility that the future is a space for growth.
—Spilling the light

“Rev. Soto’s book is a gift of lyric human realness. I have shared poems from this powerful volume again and again because they touch on something essential: that moment when you encounter words that snap your consciousness awake and make you say, ‘That’s IT!’ Words that make you say, ‘I know who needs to hear this.’ This is what language is for, and Reverend Soto uses it beautifully.” - Atena O. Danner, author of Incantations for Rest: Poems, Meditations, and Other Magic

“Spilling the Light is a book of life. With every poem, read once, twice, we are reminded of our fragile and beautiful existence. There is no escaping healing in these pages. Take it all in and be transformed.” - JeKaren Olaoya, author of All the Pieces Fit: Collage Poems

“This book does what the titles says: it spills light from every page. Rev. Soto carries a deep light within and when that light becomes word, it illuminates the world. We leave by feeling that we carry the sun inside of us.” - Dr. Cláudio Carvalhaes, professor of worship, Union Theological Seminary