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 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 fore thought
Of grief. I come into the presence of still waters
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.
Wendell Berry
note: My brother's great friend, Yance, found this, copied it and replaced it on the bridge protected by some plastic. It is still readable a month later.
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