Wendell Berry

(August 5, 1934 / Henry County, Kentucky)

Wendell Berry Poems

1. The Vacation 8/28/2015
2. Woods 2/10/2016
3. The Wish to be Generous 7/28/2016
4. Enemies 5/29/2015
5. The Real Work 5/13/2015
6. The Silence 4/24/2015
7. Like The Water 11/22/2014
8. Water 11/22/2014
9. In A Motel Parking Lot, Thinking Of Dr. Williams 1/3/2003
10. Testament 1/3/2003
11. 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. What We Need Is Here 1/13/2003
17. Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front 1/3/2003
18. The Country Of Marriage 1/3/2003
19. The Peace Of Wild Things 1/3/2003

Comments about Wendell Berry

  • Cynthia Buhain-baello Cynthia Buhain-baello (5/13/2015 7:28:00 PM)

    I like your style of writing as it flows smoothly like a friend's discourse, nothing imposed and not preachy. Your words are very profound yet simple, and the topics you choose are clearly from the heart and from who you are.

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  • Kathryn Weller Renfrow (4/22/2012 2:38:00 PM)

    There are some mistakes in your version of The Peace of Wild Things, the first line you left out for the world, and 10th line is with their light, not for their light

    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.

Best Poem of 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.

Read the full of The Peace Of Wild Things

What We Need Is Here

Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

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