Friday, April 15, 2011

the peace of wild things

When despair grows in me

and I wake in the middle of 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 forethoughtof grief.

I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind starswaiting for their light.

For a time I rest in the grace of the world

and am free.

No comments:

Post a Comment