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Tuesday, May 7, 2013

I come into the peace





"As we walk into words that have waited for us to enter them, so
the meadow, muddy with dreams, is gathering itself together

and trying, with difficulty, to remember how to make wildflowers."

- from "The Meadow" by Marie Howe









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.







"It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart."

- Rilke






This spring awakening - so startling, and so sudden. The last patch of ice just disappeared from our backyard two days ago.

And maybe we are all trying to remember, like the meadow, how to make wildflowers again. How to see them. How to feel and see the green, the new life. How to come into being. How to believe in spring.

How to walk into words.

Into worlds.

Under the day-blind stars.










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