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Tuesday, December 15, 2015

{copy work} The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry

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.

1 comment:

  1. This was my grandmother's favorite poem. She kept a copy on her fridge. She had a lot of anxiety and when I was a teen, she moved from Illinois to a cabin on a lake in the big woods of Maine. She LIVED this poem.


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