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.
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