Monday, December 19

the peace

The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry
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.

This is where my heart is today and much of the time lately; wanting to be peace, to be undaunted , and appreciating every nano-second I get to cuddle Wren, hold close to Luke and commune with friends and loved ones.  Life is, if anything, uncertain.  And so I'm grateful for right here.  And right now.

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