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

Thy 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 I am free.

WENDELL BERRY

 Yu/stan/kema