The man knows whereof he speaks.
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
(Read the rest here, at The Poetry Foundation.)
The Poetry Friday round up is here.
For the full Poetry Friday schedule, head to KidLitosphere Central.