holding rightness

 

Acadia, and Us

the rocks of Acadia hold against a relentless sea,

hold against gravity's inexorable pull away from the sky,

hold as mountains, hold the land so forests can endure,

the lichens here, like reluctant pioneers,

oh so slowly paint themselves upon the stone, away from the sea,

paths and roads have painted themselves along edge and ridge,

to open the view for us,

today, in early October, thousands of us search for access

to a wholeness, to a beauty, too easy to miss in our regular lives,

21st century America loves our streaming shows,

our phones, our distractions,

but, like empty calories, they do not sustain us,

after seemingly endless scrolling,

we ache to remember the world

into which our species was birthed,

we ache to escape all the self-reflections we make with our tools,

only then can our spirit find its footing,

only then can we remember the best of who we are,

when nature swallows us back into rightness,

the rock holds,

and the natural parks hold, 

the view of ocean, forest, rock, bird,

opens us to what we have too easily lost:

we crave the reconnection.

by Henry H. Walker

October 3, ‘26