Emily Dickinson tagged posts
I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to write about, and a poem came to mind, so I decided to do that, instead.
This is a poem that I think of in winter, always, I’m not sure why. Wendell Berry is a definitively Kentucky writer, one I saw speak a few years ago.
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.
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 Berr...Read More