sit and be still

I came across the poem below after spending Sunday afternoon outside walking through the muddy fiends along the river in Stow. I had been pondering ways of praying and different kinds of worship and how sometimes events in life seem timed to make Lent achingly real and close and applicable. I was thinking that all we can do sometimes is be still and breathe and be on the lookout for moments of grace and beauty in the midst of the dusty, dry barrenness. And then I read Wendell Berry who has a certain knack for saying what I’ve been thinking in a simpler, more eloquent way:

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.

– from ‘Sabbaths 2001’ by Wendell Berry

3 thoughts on “sit and be still

  1. Oops – I just reread the post and noticed I typed ‘fiends’ instead of ‘fields’! Though I kind of like the battlefield image it conjures up. . .

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