It is interesting how serdentipitous life can be. I read Wendell Berry this morning and emailed about him with a colleague yesterday, specifically his poem The Peace of Wild Things. It is a short poem I turn to when I struggle with things and the world. It reminds me there is beauty in the world that can be our salvation. Instead of being outside Nature, we grow to understand ourselves as embedded and part of Nature.
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.