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 in 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 the the day-blind stars waiting with their light.

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

 

 - Wendell Berry