September 18, 2025 - Good Morning! It’s Thursday, September 18.
I recently revisited a poem that I first encountered in college. It’s called “The Peace of Wild Things.” It was written about 60 years ago by a Kentucky poet named Wendell Berry. There’s something in this poem that has always spoken to me. I hope it will speak to you.
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.
And for a time I rest
in the grace of the world,
and am free.
Another poet, about 3000 years ago, put it like this.
He makes me lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside still waters
He restores my soul
Meet you back here tomorrow,
David
cindertex50@yahoo.com
