Friday, April 27, 2012

The Peace of Wild Things

IMG_2006 by jenbenjenben

I'm pretty sure this poem was written just for me. Don't tell me otherwise, okay?


The Peace of Wild Things

BY 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.

6 comments:

  1. Lovely, lovely, lovely....

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    1. Thanks. Great tip on Writer's Almanac, by the way.

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  2. Super poignant. We seem to need to get completely out of our heads (minds?) to achieve "the peace of not being taxed with the forethought of grief." Whether via nature, exercise, meditation, drugs, or whatever, I wish you the time and energy to find that peace and live in it often :)

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    1. I just love that phrase "forethought of grief."

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  3. The fact that humans are the only mammals that are taxed with the forethought of grief continues to support my theory that we are part alien!

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