Two poems by Wendell Berry.
What We Need Is Here
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of 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 for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
3 comments:
I love that first one!
I don't know very many people who like the sort of poetry I like. You're one of them. A lot of us had to read Thomas Hardy's novels (at least one) in high school, but his poetry is largely ignored. It's too bad because he was a wonderful rural poet. Lots of his poems are online if you're not familiar with his stuff. Of course maybe you are, but most people aren't. At any rate, it's a rare and wonderful thing to know someone who appreciates real poetry instead of just modern obscure wordplay.
Thank you for both of these. I've forwarded one or both to my whole family as well as a couple of clients. You got the ear, the heart, the pen of a poet.
"forethought of grief" - wow. Doesn't that just capture it?
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