The peace of wild things

March 22, 2007 by barbara

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.

I have posted this before. I will post it again when my heart is too heavy, too weary of our deeply troubled and troubling world. ~ B

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Comments

perhansa (not verified) | March 22, 2007 - 8:45pm

I've always loved this poem...thank you for posting today.

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susan | March 23, 2007 - 8:23am

Me too, it's perfect for now. And it's what I'm still hoping to do here in Fla, though nature is increasingly harder to find. Today we head into the Everglades for a few days, what's left of them. So I'll really be drifting away from the Clothesline. Thanks Barb, and Perhansa, for your posts.

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