Green trees under blue and orange sky during sunset


Nature is my escape anywhere I am.

I go wild in my mind when I think of it.

It’s a refuge anytime I need to get away,

To take me to quietude in the midst of chaos.


Wild is in the books I read

The naturalists take me there.

Poets paint the landscape

Of vibrant unspoiled dreams.


It’s in pictures and paintings on my wall,

Ephemera collected from trips.

All of them I see, feel, smell

The sensations take me back.


Wild is in my little dog

Sounding the alarm to her pack.

She feels the instinct in her bones

Echoing calls of predecessors.


Plants rewild my house inside

Verdant background to daily chores

Foliage thick with calming breath

They buffer any breaches to my shrine.


The walled-in yard is a private park

A sanctuary for birds, lizards and bees.

I watch the guardians of the night

Fluttering bats give way to floating owls.


Going wild is going to the wild,

Where nature’s beauty reigns.

Wild can be wherever you find it

Or conjure it in your mind.


Poem by Margie Klein

I’ve been a freelance writer for 30 years, writing about the natural world in articles, essays, curriculums, poetry and prose. Recently I’ve retired from working in natural resources and as an interpretive naturalist. I can be found on Twitter @NatureWriterVgs and at the International League of Conservation Writers.