Thanks be to – well, to whatever—
for the cool indifference of Nature.
Thanks for the impartial reminder
that this too shall pass.
Thanks for the perspective
that nudges us from our hot feelings,
our why-me,
our oh-no-I-can't-bear-this.
Thanks for rescuing us
from our immersion in the endless drama
of our lives.
The oak tree knows (its shadow, even, knows)
how to highlight what lasts,
to reveal the real to our blasted sight.
Look on the ocean, mighty man,
and lose the despair
that presses you into the earth—
the same earth whose fruits offer your salvation.
Thanks be to whoever it is for the second opinion
offered by lilacs and round stones,
rough bark and pine cones—
for all things not, in fact,
man-made.
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