Nature

Beneath a high verdant canopy
the wind stills for a minute,
the clearing holds its breath
and we all anticipate the arrival
of we know not what.
Perhaps some dryad
will emerge from the forest,
or some naiad will
arise from the spring;
maybe Artemis and Pan themselves,
the horned huntress and her consort,
the feral man of the woods,
will come crashing through
on their wild hunt;
it is just as possible
that Demeter and Dionysus come forth
to correct us in how we apply their gifts
of agriculture and civilization,
so that we may once more remember
that even civilization,
agriculture, and moderation
must come in moderation themselves.
They will teach us the joys of the maenads,
the ecstasies of the mysteries,
and the secrets of life and death.
Probably Titania, Queen,
and Oberon, horned consort,
are here taking their
forty-second honeymoon,
and if they do not take insult
from our boorish, common ways,
perhaps these nature spirits,
these gods, these fair folk
will take a liking to us
and feed us strange food and wine,
and carry us away to a place
where it is always summer.
The wind picks up again,
and the animals resume their activity,
and I awake from my reverie;
the gods did not bless us
with their presence
this time.