You may pace in desperation , fretting and wondering aloud "What to do?" and finding no avenue
of deliverance or escape, leave your carpeted cocoon to walk---somewhere.
And, if you are very fortunate, after a time, may find your senses being gently soothed by a forgotten balm.
Your walk on layers of leaf mold layed down over uncounted years by the oaks and hickories whose towering spires form the cathedral you've entered and you are stunned how delicious is the earthy aroma stirred by your steps.
You can taste the very air you share with fox squirrels and downy woodpeckers and fiddlehead ferns.
Your quiet peaceful joy is grounded in the awareness that you have reconnected with things ancient and sacred.
You fold the sights, smells and sounds into your self and, turning back to the cell you'd fled, vow to remember them and accept their healing.
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