Thursday, April 26, 2012
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.
[Happy Poem in Your Pocket Day! (To read the poem I chose last year, click here). For me, poetry IS medicine, and so placing a hand copied poem next to my insulin pump becomes a symbolic gesture of healing. I love the idea that the message Mr. Berry conveys here is working synergistically with my insulin to bring me to a place of peace and well-being. What poem did/would you choose for your pocket today?]