Saturday, June 30, 2018

Poetry

When despair 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 for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. 

1 comment:

Sallie (FullTime-Life) said...

That beautiful poem is going into my poetry journal..... it is perfect for these times. And, I guess, in a way good to know that people have lived through bad times before and we have survived (as humans)... . This was a real gift -- thank you.