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
...I always loved this poem. Thinking about this time of year and the craziness that comes with it, I thought this would be a fitting morning read.
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
...I always loved this poem. Thinking about this time of year and the craziness that comes with it, I thought this would be a fitting morning read.
posted by Jeff Myers at 6:32 AM
2 Comments:
Hello, Jeff; I, too, find lots to appreciate in this poem. My brother sent it to me a while back. I'm curious, how did you come across it?
What a great poem. Thanks!
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