Wendell Berry Poems
|3.||The Wish to be Generous||7/28/2016|
|6.||Like The Water||11/22/2014|
|8.||The Real Work||5/13/2015|
|9.||In A Motel Parking Lot, Thinking Of Dr. Williams||1/3/2003|
|10.||The Mad Farmer Revolution||1/3/2003|
|12.||A Meeting In A Part||1/3/2003|
|13.||The Hidden Singer||1/3/2003|
|14.||A Warning To My Readers||1/3/2003|
|15.||A Timbered Choir||1/3/2003|
|16.||Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front||1/3/2003|
|17.||The Country Of Marriage||1/3/2003|
|18.||What We Need Is Here||1/13/2003|
|19.||The Peace Of Wild Things||1/3/2003|
Comments about Wendell Berry
The Peace Of Wild Things
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.
A Timbered Choir
Even while I dreamed I prayed that what I saw was only fear and no foretelling,
for I saw the last known landscape destroyed for the sake
of the objective, the soil bludgeoned, the rock blasted.
Those who had wanted to go home would never get there now.
I visited the offices where for the sake of the objective the planners planned
at blank desks set in rows. I visited the loud factories
where the machines were made that would drive ever forward
toward the objective. I saw the forest re