An Email from Mom

My mother always knows just what to say. Two days after our visit, she sent the family this poem.

Wild Things

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of 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.

Wendell Berry
from Collected Poems (North Point Press)

An Email from Mom

2 comments on “An Email from Mom

  1. Thanks you for this, Lesa. I already can think of two people I need to send this to, in addition to a copy for me.

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