Sunday, June 8, 2014

A Scrap of a Poem

by Wendell Berry

The mind still hungers
for its earth, its bounded
and open space, the term
of its final assent. It keeps
the vision of an independent
modest abundance. It dreams
of cellar and pantry filled,
the source well husbanded.
And yet it learns care
reluctantly, and late.
It suffers plaintively from
its obligations. Long 
attention to detail
is a cross it bears only 
by congratulating itself.
It would like to hurry up 
and get more than it needs
of several pleasant things.
It dreads all the labors
of common decency.
It recalls, with disquieting
sympathy, the motto
of a locally renowned
and long dead kinsman: "Never
set up when you can lay down."

You can read most of the rest of the poem here.


  1. There is a Wendell Berry book on my nightstand waiting for me to get to it ever since my sister Lisa sent me a different piece of his poetry. I think I need to know more about this fellow! I think I'd like it.

    1. He's written lots of books and I like all of them. I think you would like them, too. He has the same sort of feeling about earth and nature that we share. :)