The Peace of Wild Things

Wendell Berry

When despair of 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 sill 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

Author: Bridget McGill

I was born in Ireland where many holy wells exist with many dedicated to St. Brigid. This inspired the name of this site.

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