The Peace Of Wild Things

When despair 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 for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

by Wendell Berry

Comments (6)

Awesome, Sandra Theodora
If I dont comment soon my computer will disconnect...... this is more than inspiring its got life in it its just more than I can comment on its wonderful pardon my spelling thanks for what you've put in words Cliff em em em em
Your poem sounds very inspiring to me. I really enjoyed reading it. With Respect, Jodilee
Lovely. I really liked this poem. Keep up the good work Sandra.
What a great little poem sandra very positive, so in control master of all i'm told made me feel good With a warmth allan
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