Wendell Berry
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At the end of long weekend, I returned to the wisdom of Wendell Berry. Oh, for the peace of simple things and the dumb life of roots! (If you haven’t read The Peace of Wild Things, then you MUST follow this link to hear Wendell Berry read the powerful companion piece and fitting follow-up to
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“[A body] belongs to the world of love, which is a world of living creatures, natural orders and cycles, many small, fragile lights in the dark.” Wendell Berry – from “Health is Membership” Reflection: The Bull Thistle By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 Magenta flames stopped me on my way, burning on the spiny base of
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We have returned, having shrunk and grown, having lost and gained, having witnessed death and birth. In my father-of-the-groom speech, I ruminated on each of these thoughts as we celebrated the union of my son and his bride. The day was perfect, despite the downpour just before the ceremony and humidity that followed. I closed
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July draws to a close, a month bookended by two key celebrations: the birth of America and the birth of my marriage! Between those two memorial stones falls a variety of family trips, community gatherings, and musical gigs that encompass a typical summer with August’s shadow looming. School is just around the corner. Time to
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If you’ve followed my blog for the past two years, you will be familiar with Wendell Berry. His Mad Farmer poems have brought such life to my soul (these two years especially). So it’s somewhat surprising that I haven’t posted one of his poems until today during National Poetry Month. However, as I flipped through
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About a year ago, I shared a sample of blackout poetry: essentially a found poem drawn from an already published text. In my case, I have been crafting my poems from a discarded book I picked up at our school library. I have titled that collection Odd Things, as each poem appears on the odd
the deepening ground 