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 his beauty on the water
and the heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with fore-thought 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.
The Peace of Wild Things