It’s not that nature’s beauty consumes me.
It’s the refuge it provides from the rest of it,
from conflicts and disasters large and small
that cover the globe; from the endless prattle
of the lonely because talking is the only way
they know to mark the world with their presence,
to connect, to find meaning; from the struggles
for survival, for status, for power, for control,
and for all the touted doodads that promise
to raise them or to provide relief from the fight.
Walk in the woods. Listen to the trees.
Observe the details in the smallest flower.
See the seasons unfold. Watch the clouds
and stars float above you. Take solace
in an order beyond our knowing, a power
and intelligence we cannot comprehend.
Feel how you are a child of it, how you move
within its omnipresent embrace, loved
even when you are asleep in it, unconscious
of its plan and grace and mercy. Wonder
at its intricacy, its obedience to inviolable laws.
Think how this is but the skin that the Yes wears,
this mysterious, ever-dancing curtain of matter.
Think how majestic is that which brought it
into being and bestowed on us our capacities
to see, to taste, to move and desire, to seek,
to find, to love, and, finally, to know.