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.
More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s…
What would you do if you really knew that life was wanting to sing through…
Thank you for this day made of wind and rain and sun and the scent…
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