Wendell Berry prose

Happy Easter and Passover to all:

By Wendell Berry

When I dispair 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 rest 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 fore-
thought of grief. I come into the
presence of still water. And I feel
above me the day-blind stars wait-
ing with their light. For a time I rest
in the grace of the world, and am
free.