The Peace of Wild Things
-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 a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
4 Responses to “november 3, 2004”
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Asides
» I have been remiss in posting SBJ’s latest stats: 23 pounds and 27 inches at six months. Yes, I’ve got the big mama biceps.
» Aaaaaand little she-who-is lost another tooth this week!
» SBJ is four months old, 19 pounds 5 ounces, and 26 inches tall. GIGANTOR!
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I can’t believe it…or then again, I can. You’re my daughter, after all.
This was the poem we studied/meditated on/committed to heart this past Sunday in my Spiritual Conversations class.
Guess Charles (our openly gay interim adult religious education coordinator, who also leads this class) was preparing us for this day.
What a beautiful poem! Thanks for posting it.
Of course, as my (normally sunny) husband said, “Go quickly to the wood drake, because they’re about to start drilling in his habitat.”
Oh, so fitting.