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
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.
The Peace of the Wild Things by Wendell Berry.
Nature, art, community and love will see us all through these next few months.