other deepening places
-
If you haven’t read yesterday’s post, you won’t fully appreciate what Wendell Berry offers in this haikuesque poem of just three lines. Come away from modernity to be still enough to catch this passing moment before the looming shadows of daily life hide, once again, the extraordinary deepening grounds waiting in plain sight. XX (2012)
-
Flipping through my copy of Wendell Berry’s This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems, I found myself drawn to the poems that conclude the volume, echoes of the Mad Farmer filling the pages. Try as I might to find a softer piece for this post, I kept returning to this poem and the haunting refrain,
-
Moving into a new week, I find Mary Oliver’s poetry rich with invitations to live life more fully, to deepen in the places where we have been planted, and to radiate joy in the midst of suffering, remembering our part in the glorious tapestry of life. I almost packed a few poems into this post,
-
Nursing a rough case of writer’s block. Summer has been full (as always), and time to write and reflect upon all that’s happened or sit in the still of a quiet day and just soak in the moment has been rare indeed. My mind has turned towards teaching, selecting new works to share with my
-
Midsummer passed without much fanfare. Yet for me, it’s a harbinger of late summer and the beginning of another school year. Like nearly every summer, the days flit by without much structure, despite attempts to bring order to the wonderful chaos, and now I begin to feel that growing sense of unpreparedness. I haven’t even
-
Savoring the pace of summer here at home with my family! Sure, there are projects that need to be addressed such as the “new” doors that need to be stained from the addition we put on back in 2020. I need to touch up the rust spots on the van and the garlic needs to
-
Here’s a great post I read this morning from a poet I follow online. I love the use of gustatory imagery in the opening lines and all the varied light imagery that builds to that beautiful meditation on “light everlasting.” Such a hope-filled reminder of the Light that swallows up all darkness! A slice of
-
By the calendar, summer has yet to fold back the cluttered page of Spring. By the end of the school year, summer has spread out like endless fields before me. As I wrap up grading student essays for the AP English Literature exam tomorrow (it’s been a prose year for me…but I’ve enjoyed it), let
-
Either Wendell Berry and I share the same mother, or he just perfectly captured the power of forgiveness that many mothers exhibit. As I read this poem for the first time, I imagined myself as the speaker. Though not outwardly rebellious to my mother’s face, the boy I presented at home bore no likeness to
-
Sabbath Poem II (1995) by Wendell Berry The best reward in going to the woods Is being lost to other people, and Lost sometimes to myself. I’m at the end Of no bespeaking wire to spoil my goods; I send no letter back I do not bring. Whoever wants me now must hunt me down
the deepening ground 