the presence of still water

Still thinking on  how open water - & wild spaces - have such attraction, and importance, in our lives ...

... and so, here's a poem from Wendell Berry (snap is of the Union Canal):


Like The Water

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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Wendell Berry (1934 - )

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