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.
— Wendell Berry
What brings you peace?
For me, peace is sitting alone in my house with a book and my cat Jasper curled up next to me. He insists that I pet him while I read, careless of the pages turning.
I, too, love the peace of wild things…. when it’s not cold outside. I love to find those out-of-the-way places where it seems no one goes. Nothing returns stillness to my soul like the wind rustling through trees and birds singing nearby. This sounds bucholic and cliche, but it’s very, very true.
Peace also comes in unexpected, un-sought moments. When little children smile up at me in the grocery line while their mother is rifling through coupons. When I somehow hit every green light on my way to work (and I’m on time for once!). Or, even when I’m sitting in church on Sunday, kneeling in post-communion prayer, or singing a favorite hymn.
When I’m not at peace and then suddenly, a moment breaks into my life, I remember to breathe, I remember that I am beloved, and all shall be well.
Grace & Peace,