Sunday, May 29, 2016

May Poetry

"As I age
in the world it will rise and spread,
and be for this place horizon
and orison, the voice of its winds.
I have made myself a dream to dream
of its rising, that has gentled my nights.
Let me desire and wish well the life
these trees may live when I
no longer rise in the mornings
to be pleased with the green of them
shining, and their shadows on the ground,
and the sound of the wind in them."

-   Wendell Berry, Planting Trees 

1 comment:

eileeninmd said...

Pretty poem! Happy Monday, enjoy your new week ahead!