When despair for 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 down where the wood drake
Rests in his beauty on the water,
And the great heron feeds
I come into the place of wild things
Who don't 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 with their light
For a time, I rest in the grace of the world
and am free.
