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The Peace of Wild Things

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It's always lovely to chance upon a little gem of a read and this is beginning to be my go-to poem when I need to find rest and peace in the midst of a busy world. The Peace of Wild Things BY  WENDELL BERRY 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 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 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.
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28

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Today I celebrate my 28th year of existence. It's been a somewhat contemplative year where life has taken almost every sombre moment and turned it around. It's not like I've been a shining rainbow on speed but it's left me much more appreciative of the people and things around me. Many a day, I wake up and I choose 'Happy' . If I had to choose one word to sum up the year, it would be refreshing . After 27, life sped on and turned amazing. Sure there were glitches and down days and simply awful things and memories, outgrowing of things and lots of rainy days but amazing things still happened in the year of 27. The year of 28 feels NEW .  It's like a clean slate and miles and miles of hope. Today I celebrate my last year of single-hood. It's supposed to be a milestone which I'm writing down to remember. I know it's just a number and people stop counting and stop remembering birthdays after 21 or so. But I'm honoured to be given 28. I&
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in the stillness of morning....there You are

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Have you ever had an overwhelmingly glorious yet surreal moment? A time of day when you stir into consciousness and flicker your eyes open, blinking away the sandy wisps of sleep and feel at that exact moment that God was right there with you. He brushes your hair away from your eyes, caressing your cheek. You say good morning with a wide spread grin and he says, "Good morning my love. Good morning my daughter. Good morning my treasure." As thoughts of the day ahead start to fill your mind and the worry of work and meetings and dirty dishes and laundry and the lists you make of lists of things you have to do and should do and MUST do, they overwhelm you. And you wish, oh you wish that you could just linger a while longer, in this quiet wakefulness of a perfect morning. Curtains drawn yet that dim yellowy light forces you right into the reality of a new day. You shut your eyes and just for awhile, everything ceases. Your thoughts are affectionately quiet, you exp
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