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.
by Wendell Berry
This beautiful little poem reminds me of what we are now in grave danger of losing, and losing with it our connectedness, our oneness with the living Earth. And why we must shout as loud as we can for our wild places and wild creatures – not just for their own sakes, but for ours as well. For without them the flame of the human spirit will go out.