Berry’s “The Peace of Wild Things” drifts in and out of my mind
As I walk the woods of north Alabama on a crisp Sunday afternoon
Like the poet, I, too, experience the grip of despair some days
Despair and fear
Unlike Berry, though, I do not lie by the water of the drake and the heron
Rather, I walk a path among the pines, the oaks, and the hickories
There is a stillness here, known by the face of the limestone above me
A face that has borne witness to millenia upon millenia in silence
In that place, I know peace as the cool wind moves around me
In that place, I know the Grace of Creation, and find my rest
Yet There is Method 
Absolutely beautiful, Tim. Well done.
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What a beautiful reminder to find grace and rest in the world around us. I especially appreciate the way you dovetail Berry’s work so seamlessly with your own. I can imagine you in that moment, in that place, as his words and works come to you. Thank you for bringing us along.
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Beautiful. I love that last line. It speaks the truth for so many of us.
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Your poem left me eager to get outside, to find what you found, to learn to identify a hickory tree in all its seasons., to feel small next to a face of limestone. Thank you for sharing your poem, Tim!
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