Sit and be still until in the time of no rain you hear beneath the dry wind's commotion in the trees the… — Wendell Berry

A mind that has confronted ruin for years

Is half or more a ruined mind.

Small creatures die because

larger creatures are hungry.

How superior to this

human confusion of greed

and creed, blood and fire.

Ask the world to reveal its quietude —

not the silence of machines when they are still,

but the true quiet by which birdsongs,

trees, bellworts, snails, clouds, storms

become what they are, and are nothing else.