The Peace of Wild
Things
When despair grows in
me
and I wake in the middle of 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 for their light. For a time
I rest in
the grace of the world, and am free.
~ Wendell Berry
~
(The Selected Poems of Wendell
Berry)
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