Meanwhile

There is something intrinsic to a certain type of spiritual, naturalistic poetry that makes it touch so many people. And I am pretty certain that it is the same thing I find myself in the woods, and I can best describe it as the beautiful impermanence of nature. I can look at a patch of ivy covered in snow and it comforts me so much to know that at some point tomorrow that crackling white mantle will drip, drip away and the ivy leaves will dry and shine again in the winter sun. 

No matter how overwhelming life is there is always something in the green that springs from the earth that brings me back to a balanced perspective. 

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

Are moving across the landscapes,

Over the prairies and the deep trees,

The mountains and the rivers. 

{Mary Oliver 'Wild Geese'}