The Peace of Wild Things

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 forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light.

For a time I rest
in the grace of the world,
and am free.

Wendell Berry

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