By Wendell Berry
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.
From Collected Poems (North Point Press), © 1985.
Reprinted here with the kind permission of Wendell Berry.
Autumn. What is that silent “n” all about anyway? It should be dropped quietly, like…
When I am asked how I began writing poems, I talk about the indifference of…
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are…
This site is brought to you by A Network for Grateful Living, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. All donations are fully tax deductible in the U.S.A.
© 2000 - 2017, A Network for Grateful Living