A creature of the surface, like ourselves,Read the rest here.
The garden lives by the immortal Wheel
That turns in place, year after year, to heal
It whole. Unlike our economic pyre
That draws from ancient rock a fossil fire,
An anti-life of radiance and fume
That burns as power and remains as doom,
The garden delves no deeper than its roots
And lifts no higher than its leaves and fruits.
Monday, September 28, 2009
"A Speech to the Garden Club of America," by Wendell Berry
Another sighting of one of our Modern Wise Men. I'll have to find a way to put these nine last lines in Wendell Berry's new poem, "A Speech to the Garden Club," in the New Yorker, over my garden somewhere:
3 comments:
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Nice post which he garden lives by the immortal Wheel that turns in place, year after year, to heal
ReplyDeleteIt whole. Unlike our economic pyre
That draws from ancient rock a fossil fire, An anti-life of radiance and fume. Thanks a lot for posting this article.
Nice post which That burns as power and remains as doom.
ReplyDeleteThe garden delves no deeper than its roots And lifts no higher than its leaves and fruits. Thanks.
In which that turns in place, year after year, to heal It whole. Unlike our economic pyre That draws from ancient rock a fossil fire. Thanks.
ReplyDelete