This poem popped up in my Writer's Almanac email today. The Writer's Almanac is a daily radio show of poetry and historical interest pieces, and the newsletter delivers it all to your inbox in case you don't have the chance to catch it live. I'm enrolled in a few listservs of daily poetry and this one seems to most consistently deliver poems I enjoy. No exception here with another nice reminder of the importance of keeping things simple.
Wendell Berry
All goes back to the earth,
and so I do not desire
pride of excess or power,
but the contentments made
by men who have had little:
the fisherman's silence
receiving the river's grace,
the gardner's musing on rows.
I lack the peace of simple things.
I am never wholly in place.
I find no peace or grace.
We sell the world to buy fire,
our way lighted by burning men,
and that has bent my mind
and made me think of darkness
and wish for the dumb life of roots.
No comments:
Post a Comment