Monday, 5 March 2012

The Peace of Wild Things 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 the time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

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