Today I spent a considerable portion of the day reflecting on the words and wisdom of one of my favorite poets, essayists, and visionaries, Wendell Berry. One poem, in particular, caught my attention with the compelling line "Let the sighs of the prisoner come before thee" and I have copied the entirety of the poem below for your consideration. Let me know in the comments below your thoughts (if any) about the poem. I for one found it to be a comfort to myself as I am often tired and weary of this world's troubles.
“My sore ran in the night
and ceased not. I tossed to and fro
unto the dawning of the day.
Let the sighs of the prisoner
come before thee; according to the greatness of
they power
preserve thou those that are
appointed to die. I remembered
my song in the night. I said,
This is my sorrow, but I will,
Remember the works of the Lord;
I will remember his wonders
of old. And I remembered
the small stream coming down
off the hill through all the years
of my people, and long before.
I remembered the trees on slopes
Beside it, standing in the great heat
of summer, and giving shade.
I remembered the leaves falling
and then the snow, and again
the small flowers rising up out of the dead leaves,
the mosses
green again by the flowing water,
and the water thrush’s nest
under the root of a strong tree.
I said, I will grieve no more
for death, for what is death to me
who have seen thy returns, O
Lord of love, who in the false are true.”
-Wendell Berry in “A timbered choir”
