When I am Among the Trees

With no class or practice at the Institute,  Sunday's cool November morning air makes it a perfect time for exploration.  Our apartment overlooks a large park, which is home to myriad bird species whose early morning chorus makes an alarm practically unnecessary.  Stands of bamboo so thick that no light passes through them exist alongside delicate flowers.  

We begin there, in good company with many power-walking Punites, and as we reach the far side, are greeted by a graceful anjali mudra sculpture.  

Through the gates and right onto Hare Krishna Mandir Road, we pass by the Iyengar Institute and head across the busy, noisy expressway just 75 feet from the entrance.  

As we go onto the grounds of the Pune Agricultural College, almost instantly the honking and roar of traffic subsides and we are among the trees...

Huge old Mimosa branches arch over the street, like the nave of a cathedral inviting one deeper inside.  

The well-kept lawn fronts a majestic building in the center of campus, behind which are the agricultural fields.   Both these stand in a stark contrast to the big city bustle outside the gates.

WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES

by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,

especially the willows and the honey locust, 

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness.

I would say that they save me, and daily. 

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out, "Stay awhile." 

The light flows from their branches,

And they call again, "It's simple,"

they say, "and you, too, have come

into the world to do this, go easy,

to be filled with light, and to shine."

A special thank you to my mentor, Peentz, who introduced me to this poem and this poet.