The Peace of Wild Things
Wendell Berry
When depaire 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 thye 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 int he grace of the word, and am free
No comments:
Post a Comment