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.)
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6 comments:
I looove Wendell Berry. I like to think of him as a great uncle that I could stop by and visit on occasion. Have you read any of his agrarian essays? There are some on feminism that are so so good.
I tried reading one of Berry's novels and I just couldn't get into it. Maybe I should try his essays and poetry! I really liked that one, Karen. Thanks!
Faith, I'm not a huge fan of his novels. They end up having a little too much "essayish" stuff in the character's inner monologues which bugs me. He kind of hits you over the head with his ideas (which are good ones! but still, it's not great for a novel). Do check out his essays which are splendid and his poetry is great, too :)
Ah, I love that "peace of wild things." Thanks for joining us. Some of us repost all the links from the comments, but I knew I would not have time for that this week, so I used the Mister Linky button. I think you missed posting there. I just wanted you to know for the next time you join us. Welcome!
Thanks, Doraine! Yes, I totally forgot to do my Linky link. Thanks for letting me know. :)
That reminds me a lot of my favorite Berry poem, Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front.
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