- Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale
- From Blossoms
- Wild Geese
- The Peace of Wild Things
- My Gift to You
- Departing Spring
- The Skylark
- What a Strange Thing!
- Although The Wind …
- The Old Pond
- Spring Is Like A Perhaps Hand
- Hast thou 2 loaves of bread …
- Youth and Age
- A Postcard From the Volcano
- The Kraken
- He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
- There Is a Solitude of Space
- Because I Could Not Stop for Death
- Mad Song
- Answer July
- Success Is Counted Sweetest
- Hope Is the Thing with Feathers
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.
by Wendell Berry (b. 1934), American poet, novelist, and environmentalist.
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