Monday, November 26, 2012

Wendell's Waking

4:04 am

Calling out to someone walking their dog on the beach wakes me from my dream...

I get up to walk the house and see

White egg moon 
resting on a ribbon cloud 
against navy sky. 

That middle of the night fear arrives, always without invitation, and I remember Wendell's poem, how I read it on the counter of the ice cream parlor and wrote it quickly down in my small black notebook, how I felt my shoulders drop, breath ease.

Wendall's waking in the middle of the night 

is the gift on this early Monday morning.

The Peace of 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

May you rest in the grace of the world today.

xo b


  1. oh my, I think I'll be able to use this one too...thank you! xo

  2. Hello early birder!
    Post-Thanksgiving, family gone, empty house, middle of the night kind of thing...Enjoying the morning sun and tea...always spirit-lifters and balancers! xo b

  3. bets, absolutely wonderful. thank you for sharing this poem!! hoping that you as well are able to rest in the grace of the world.