Author: Wendell Berry

ALL that I serve will die, all my delights, The flesh kindled from my flesh, garden and field, The silent […]

1. Dear relatives and friends, when my last breath Grows large and free in air, don’t call it death A […]

Do not think me gentle Because I speak in praise Of gentleness, or elegant Because I honor the grace That […]

The longer we are together The larger death grows around us. How many we know by now Who are dead! […]

Love the quick profit, the annual raise, Vacation with pay. Want more Of everything ready-made. Be afraid To know your […]

You will be walking some night In the comfortable dark of your yard And suddenly a great light will shine […]

I. The poem is important, but Not more than the people Whose survival it serves, One of the necessities, so […]

I He wakes in darkness. All around Are sounds of stones shifting, locks Unlocking. As if some one had lifted […]

The Grower of Trees, the gardener, the man born to farming, Whose hands reach into the ground and sprout To […]

It may be that when we no longer know what to do We have come our real work, And that […]