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.
From the new Beacon Press anthology, Poems to Live By in Uncertain Times; also, Reading 483 in Singing the Living Tradition. Copyright 1968 by Wendell Berry; reprinted by permission.
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