Monday, December 3, 2007

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

7 comments:

stephanie said...

Lovely poem! I am very much enjoying your magnificent blog. Hope your shoulder feels better soon. I should probably fly up to see you, and take you to a real bar, I mean doctor, for treatment.

Miss you!!!

A Novel Woman said...

Hi Stephanie!!

Miss you too. Come to visit me. I need the Dr. Steph treatment. That involves gin and olives, right?

A Novel Woman said...

HEY STEPH-

I can't see your blog.

Doo dee dum dee doo...

Rose said...

Yeah. What Stephanie said.

Lub,
Rosie

A Novel Woman said...

Hi Rosie girl!

Thanks for stopping by.

Kelly said...

I love Wendell Berry and this is a wonderful poem.

Beautiful photo, too!

BUSH BABE said...

Thanks Pam - this is lovely
:-)
BB