The juicy droplets resting on a carpet of lively green foliage
The sun, a golden white, shining upon them both.
A gentle, effortless waft of cool breeze, undisturbing but distinct.
The earth, the sun, wind, and water, all powerful in their own right
Co-existing, colluding in unity rather than fighting for prominence
I sit in the midst, feeling, touching, seeing, smelling
The perfect harmony of power and humility around me.
I wrote this poem one day when I was hiking in Yosemite National Park. I was in this beautiful, poetic part of the world surrounded by some of nature’s finest work but I couldn’t enjoy it. My heart was leaden and heavy, the weight of all the baggage of my past sitting stoically on my chest, unwilling to budge. I was far away from any pollution but I was having trouble breathing.
I was with a group of people but I had trailed behind to take a few full, deep breaths. It had just rained and the dampness in the air covered me like a blanket. As I exhaled out into the world, the weight in my chest gave a bit. I was all alone but I was encircled by the elements of nature, unseeable forces, yet so powerful in their effects. Suddenly, my troubles, my baggage, my failures, my triumphs, none of it seemed to matter in the midst of natural forces so powerful they had my life in their hands. I felt weightless because without my troubles, my baggage, my ego, my failures, my triumphs, I was no one. I was inconsequential. I resumed my breathing – at least consciously – feeling lighter, reveling in my inconspicuousness at least for a few moments before the weight of the world landed on my chest again.