"Those Who Seek Nature" by David Pring-Mill, Poet of the Week

Those Who Seek Nature

David Pring-Mill

There are those who seek nature

to set beauty on their irises

with the hope that fantastic views

will be absorbed within,

swirling down their pupils' vortices.

They believe

a sensory bombardment

of clear water, steep stones,

sun-lit crests and foreign cultures

will drive out what is in their minds,

expelling any inferiority

or empty state.

In this fervor for nature,

there is a transparent desire

to make their own beings transparent,

so that nature will be seen through them

and its grandeur will be theirs.

Above my path,

a pumpkin sky was carved,

with slits in clouds.

The orange of these masked heavens

almost seems to hang on the hill.

Brightness remains

on the road, light and dust

becoming silver,

with pretty plants noting

asphalt borders,

in the way an airport at night is seen by

white and blue runway markers.

Here I see Menzies’ Larkspur

with stems dispersed and dried

in deep purple and rich blue,

advancing towards

the burnt-out mountains,

our scorched edge.

I live now, breathless,

for the closing of this day,

with its final enormity.

The enormity of nature

requires a reevaluation of oneself.

The altered sense of scale,

the drunken measurement

of everything, means that the soul

cannot account for itself.

Then the mind becomes

an inspired mathematician

fighting after a new formula.

There is no way around the self,

in the middle of nature, no way

to separate the hike from self-reflection.

Those fleeced nature-lovers

with their Instagram mountain selfies

expose the wild-eyed, insecure

narcissistic streak that runs

deep within man’s search for meaning,

trickling out of philosophical pages;

It is the call of awe

and reimagined purpose.

This world tumbles and smooths

rocks and people alike.

On the edge of a cliff,

I stop, holding

my fingers apart

against the wind and its aroma of pine,

with the narrative of my life

somewhere back

in the right-angular land

and pulsating streets,

where people are trying

desperately to drop

into the depths of the present.

Past lovers allow for an alternate reality,

A plausibility that can’t be challenged.

The smell of hair and sweat

can become sweet things,

sweetened by love or nostalgia.

Past lovers came with different smells,

even different types of clothing and accessories

texturing the half-seen sights of each day,

and certainly would have brought

different conversations full of ideas,

words and consequences.

And yet, within nature, time is mocked.

The wind is deaf to each

history declared.

Nature was injured by people

proclaiming progress

and that idea of progress is rooted in time.

But forests are the same now as they were then,

with ecological adjustments, but still

those trees stand with their superior height,

Still those mountains loom with their craggy might,

And so time disappears within nature

And your own timeline is reconsidered

before dissolving, too.

Poet’s Notes:  Many poems have been written about nature. Artists of all stripes frequently depict nature, the source of boundless inspiration. Tormented people go to nature to be healed. In this poem, I wrote about the psychology underlying those relationships.

Recently, the New York Times published a dual book review written by Charles Petersen, which made interesting commentary upon the history of hiking and the varied motivations of hikers. 34 million Americans go hiking each year. Peterson notes that many authors of works about hiking “take this experience as the occasion for an anguished excavation of [their] past.” Peterson’s article “Take a Hike!” can be read here: http://www.nybooks.com/articles/2017/08/17/take-a-hike-american-trails/.

Editor's Note:  This is David's final appearance in Songs of Eretz Poetry Review.  I am sure that I speak not only for myself that his poetic gift will be dearly missed.  I have invited him to keep us apprised of his future achievements and hope to keep the readers of Songs of Eretz informed of them.