The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry (1934 — )
“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.”
(April is National Poetry Month and every day I receive a poem from my friend Margaret who has run the monthly poetry meeting at the bookstore in town (now Battenkill Books) for years. When I read today’s by Wendell Berry, I knew right away I wanted to share it with all of you.)
Thank you, Maria
This went deep within me.
Bringing me back to Peace.
DawnMarie
It did for me too DawnMarie, I’m glad it did that for you too. :)
This is such a beautiful photo. Such depth and detail.
I usually don’t take these kinds of pictures Sandy. But the woods were so green today and the sun through the trees spoke to me.
Beautiful photo to match a poem of not stressing about the seemingly barren or decaying but see there, on the perimeter, are the stalwarts, evergreen and doing their job, if one just follows the life-giving water and keeps an eye on the light ahead. Beautiful photo, and of course, Mr. Berry didn’t really write just poetry but meditations on psychology.
Ah, you saw more into the photo than I did Amy, Thanks for your thoughts.