sabbath 2001, Wendell Berry

Thinking upon these words on this summer
sabbath afternoon and the rest of the poem is here.



this makes my eyes squint .... from the murmuring cottage tumblr


VI

Sit and be still

until in the time

of no rain you hear

beneath the dry wind's

commotion in the trees

the sound of flowing

water among the rocks,

a stream unheard before,

and you are where

breathing is prayer.