The Peace of the Wild Things

Never much of a poet or a poetry buff myself, this one has always stuck with me, ferociously, stuck to my heart.  This year has been too much.  


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




2 thoughts on “The Peace of the Wild Things

  1. Michelle LaMattina Mullen says:

    Thank you, Jenna. I was pregnant with Mia when 9/11 happened and thought, “How can I bring a child into this world?” In despair over what is happening in Boston, I thought this again. At the same time though, I am so grateful for the innocence of these girls, for the hope they carry with them daily, and for my hopes and dreams for them as they forge a trail of kindness, love, and respect.

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