Awe Walks.

Written on Oct. 12, 2020 

We took the kids 
when we could 
outside to the woods. 

Little moments of awe 
made what we saw 
a balance to our daily dread. 

There was iridescent mud 
underfoot in a special place 
near the permanent puddle 
under the weeds invading the space. 

The swooping owl’s looming grace 
as it startled from its tree 
scared complacency out of me. 

We especially loved slimy slugs, 
more substantial than airy bugs 
and sea stars returning 
from their viral churning. 

The moon snail’s band of mantle 
burrowed beneath grains of sands. 
The seal and her babe 
bobbed on waves 

and made our day feel sweet. 
In that special way orcas cavort 
they help us forget the steely fortress 
of our newly shrunken world. 

My doctor prescribes 
the Awe Walk 
when my mood balks and dives. 

A meditative nature prayer, 
better than pills and wine, 
a nature song among whispering 
trees’ towering altars 
sigh between breathing beats 
of heaving weaving waves. 

Laura Celise Lippman