Taking Refuge: The Fourth Jewel
Dear Mary,
I went into the
woods today
because I wanted
to
commune with you,
my grandmother’s
copy of Whitman,
and the 4 grey herons
who
promptly took
flight
the very moment I
arrived.
This time of year—I
bet
you will appreciate
this little detail—
in mid-spring, New
England,
the baby maple leaves
have just
blossomed into
a canopy of
treetops that is
this totally
fantastic shade of technicolor
lime-green; it
looks like nature’s own
manifestation of
joy
that even the most
melancholic person
must bow to with a
slight smile.
It’s mornings like
these
that I think of nature,
the wilderness,
as my own fourth
Jewel.
A place where I
can take refuge
from a human world
that
often feels like
too damn
much to bear.
I’ve often wondered
over the years
over the years
if you ever felt the
same
when you were
skipping
school in Ohio, or
later in adulthood
when you wandered
the dunes of the Cape.
I like to think I’m
not the only one.
-Me
