By Maryanna Gabriel (well not really)
The Peace of Wild Things 
When despair for the world grows in me
And I awake in the night to 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.
Who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the prescence 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 I am free.
- Wendell Berry