“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.”
― Wendell Berry, Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community: Eight Essaysi look for rest from the despair of this world
but my dreams turn to night terrors.
i restlessly battle through my slumber
to find i have not slept a wink.
slipping away to knobby revealed roots
of rugged red furry trunks,
i lay arm spread across and gaze up.
i pray to blink longer and remember
a place i have yet to live.
a place of peace without pain,
where children are always safe.
i drift away for a minute or two.
a hand of grace blankets me,
and i sigh relief.
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