Within the ongoing havoc
the woods this morning is almost unnaturally still.
Through stalled air, unshadowed light,
a few leaves fall of their own weight.
The sky is gray.
It begins in mist almost at the ground
and rises forever.
The trees rise in silence
almost natural, but not quite,
almost eternal, but not quite.
What more did I think I wanted?
Here is what has always been.
Here is what will always be.
Even in me,
the Maker of all this returns in rest,
even to the slightest of His works,
a yellow leaf slowly falling,
and is pleased.
- Wendell Berry
- Credits: Poem – ArtPropelled. Photograph: mascarandelegance
- Other Wendell Berry favorites: The circle of no beginning or end. And that is Hell and I believe that whatever we need is at hand…