Sunday, April 13, 2008

GBH and Poetry

Photo by Bryan Stone

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

Wendell Berry is a conservationist, farmer, essayist, Professor of English, and poet. He has been called the Prophet of Rural America by the New York Times.


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