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 might 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.
This gorgeous poem by Wendell Berry is a gem. The restful imagery of water and sky evokes for me a sense of calm and peace. For a time, he writes, he finds rest and can be free. Feelings of peace are often fleeting. But there can be a kind of afterglow that remains with us, I have found. Even after the mind has long forgotten, the body remembers and calls us back again. This, for me, is the essence of spirituality.
Spiritual Practice: Read this poem once. Read it again. Close your eyes and imagine the peaceful place Berry describes. Imagine the temperature of the air, hear sounds of nature, feel the breeze. Breathe here, for a time.
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