The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry
Poems Published
9 years ago
Another beautifully expressed gem. Nature seems to be the universal healer, doesn't it? We need to get out into nature sometime together. I miss your face.
ReplyDeleteThe grace of the world seems harder and harder to find. Thank goodness for people like you who are intent on finding it and living it.
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