I have a master's degree in medieval history and I'm not afraid to use it.

In Blackwater Woods

Look, the trees / are turning/ their own bodies/ into pillars// of light, / are giving off the rich / fragrance of cinnamon / and fulfillment, // the long tapers / of cattails / are bursting and floating away over / the blue shoulders // of the ponds, / and every pond, / no matter what its / name is, is // nameless now. / Every year / everything / I have ever learned // in my lifetime / leads back to this: the fires / and the black river of loss / whose other side // is salvation, / whose meaning / none of us will ever know. / To live in this world // you must be able / to do three things: / to love what is mortal; / to hold it // against your bones knowing / your own life depends on it; / and, when the time comes to let it go, / to let it go.// - Mary Oliver