Water’s Clock

on the beachSqueezing in the last part of our annual family vacation this past weekend, I spent recent days dodging foaming water and temperate breezes at the sea’s edge, each cresting wave’s rhythmic arrival marking time’s passage from summer to autumn.  The drive home through long valleys of harvested corn fields and mountain passes kissed by fall’s first colors etched ever deeper the lines in my mind’s impression of the season’s change.  Without exception, such transitions prompt—for me—introspection.  In the spirit of this (new) season, I offer these verses from Wendell Berry, novelist, essayist, poet, and fellow reflective thinker.  Enjoy his thoughts and fall’s welcomed advent.

Have a great week and see you along the way.

“Like the Water”  

by Wendell Berry

Like the water
of a deep stream,
love is always too much.
We did not make it.
Though we drink till we burst,
we cannot have it all,
or want it all.
In its abundance
it survives our thirst.

In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill,
and sleep,
while it flows
through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us,
except we keep returning to its rich waters
thirsty.

We enter,
willing to die,
into the commonwealth of its joy.

 

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