The Peace of Wild Things
I recently visited a long-time friend in Maine who recited to me the poem The Peace of Wild Things, by Wendell Berry. It strongly resonated with me because I find long walks in the woods and by the seashore restorative. For me, this message is helpful to remember.
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.