TOMORROW
is fire-
works and swelter.
Neighbor on his tractor,
mowing annual grasses
so the hill won't burn—
mechanical hum growing
distant
as I sit in uncut
grass and watch my sheep
in meditation
chew their cud under a blue
oak, its leaves layers
of shadowed light on grass,
of music it remembers
from a breeze.
Forgetting days, the old
ewe's eyes
are so far distant, air
growing heavy
with July and thought
which isn't thought
but being.
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
_____________________
THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS
—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 feed.
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.
______________________
JOY
—Carl Sandburg
Let a joy keep you.
Reach out your hands
And take it when it runs by,
As the Apache dancer
Clutches his woman.
I have seen them
Live long and laugh loud,
Sent on singing, singing,
Smashed to the heart
Under the ribs
With a terrible love.
Joy always,
Joy everywhere—
Let joy kill you!
Keep away from the little deaths.
______________________
—Medusa
