Yeah, that

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 I am free.

Image by A1ik


Pyzahn said…
Gosh, Kathleen...that is so amazingly beautiful. So often at night when I can't sleep, lying there with restless, frightful thoughts knocking around in my head...I will need to visit this poem again.

Thank you, grazie, merci....for the lovely words, and for confirming I'm not the only one who wrestles with needless anxiety.
Rudee said…
I'd like a little of that.
Erin Davis said…
Wow. This is beautiful. I like the juxtaposition of "the peace of wild things."
One of my most favorite poems. It eases that knotted pit that finds its way to my soul every now and again. Lovely photo, too.
Kathleen said…
P--Do you find your nights any different since Jan 20?
R--I'd like you to have a LOT of that!
E--So true...
D--You are amazingly well-read. I just found that poem for the first time in a book from the library. It just knocked my socks off. Glad you liked the photo, too. Must try out my new marine battery to power my CPAP in a tent. Should keep the bears away, not that I'd want to.

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