April

April seems to keep accumulating negative sorts of anniversaries both for the world at large and for me personally.  This April seems to also be refusing to allow Spring to fully arrive.  One thing I do like about April is that it's National Poetry Month.  I have not yet honored that so today I will share a poem I heard for the first time this week.  It reminded me of one of the places I have found solace since I was a child.  In a week which involved bombings, and health crises, and a celebration of the Earth, it seemed so fitting on so many levels.

I know a number of other folks are having their own set of struggles so I offer a simple poem which spoke to me in the midst of frustration and concern. I hope others may find a moment of rest as well.

The Peace of Wild Things

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.


— Wendell Berry