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 to 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.
The following is part of a comment left on a previous posting titled Animals and End of Life Issues.
The situation of Peter Cat reminds me that, just as for humans, it’s helpful to have written Last Wishes for one’s animals in case they die while under the care of another person. Continued…
Be it forethought of grief or afterthoughts of grief, rest in the grace of the world. In wild places.
Many thanks to Nic for another great poem.