Saturday, February 17, 2007

The Peace of Wild Things

Not long ago my friend Barb and I attempted to define poetry. We talked it through until we decided that a poem is writing distilled to its purest essence.

Just came across this poem by Wendell Berry. It is the absolute essence of life here on the pond (including the wood drake and heron).


The Peace of Wild Things

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.


— Wendell Berry

6 comments:

Mystic Wing said...

I was very much hoping for a post that would give me the opportunity for a smart-ass response.

Alas, not to be.

Guess I had it coming, given a certain comment about "Depends" undergarments some time back.

This is a great poem, which I haven't read in many years. Thanks for sharing.

Kamsin said...

Really great poem. Thanks for sharing it!

Prema said...

Lovely poem. Good for my mind today...thanks.

holly said...

beautiful. just what i needed to read.

Becca said...

This poem was a gift for my spirit today - thanks for sharing it and lifting me up :)

Amber said...

I have heard this poem before. Wayne Dyer read it on one of his radio shows. So pretty!

:)