"I'd seen their hoofprints in the deep needles and knew they ended the long night under the pines... I was thinking: so this is how you swim inward,… - Mary Oliver

Going to Walden is not so easy a thing
As a green visit. It is the slow and difficult
Trick of living, and finding it where you are.

Sometimes I dream
that everything in the world is here, in my room,
in a great closet, named and orderly,

and I am here too, in front of it,
hardly able to see for the flash and the brightness — and sometimes I am that madcap person clapping my hands and singing;
and sometimes I am that quiet person down on my knees.

I don't know what God is. I don't know what death is. But I believe they have between them some fervent and necessary arrangement.