Sundays are for Poetry
11/05/2017
5/30
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.
Really lovely. Thanks for the photo too.
Posted by: Jeanne | 11/05/2017 at 07:37 AM
The poem grows more and more meaningful over time.
Posted by: Carole | 11/05/2017 at 07:54 AM
Beautiful photo, beautiful poem!
Posted by: Bonny | 11/05/2017 at 08:52 AM
Wendell Berry is my go to for peace and calm. Your photo is a perfect accompaniment.
Posted by: margene | 11/05/2017 at 09:43 AM
Love this.
Posted by: Vera | 11/05/2017 at 11:24 AM
Perfect, especially today. Thank you! XO
Posted by: AsKatKnits | 11/05/2017 at 04:08 PM
So perfect. Sometimes everything I read and hear becomes too much to bear.
Posted by: Geri | 11/05/2017 at 04:54 PM
Peace!
Posted by: Honore´ | 11/05/2017 at 06:26 PM
Word ❤️
Posted by: Patty | 11/05/2017 at 07:47 PM
LOVE! (so glad you're continuing Poetry Sundays; they're one of my favorite things about NaBloPoMo!)
Posted by: Mary | 11/06/2017 at 06:57 AM
The perfect choice for today.
Posted by: Bridget | 11/06/2017 at 08:33 AM