Wendell Berry and Ellen Davis — The Art of Being Creatures
On Being with Krista Tippett
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The Light of the Night, a Song of the Lord
not again in this flesh will i see the old trees stand here as they did. Whatever blight our blindness was or made, however thought or act might al, the burden of absence grows. And i pay daily the grief i owe to love for women and men,. days and trees i will not know again. Pray for the world's light thus borne away. The presence that we come into with song is here, shaping the seasons of his wild will. Though blindness may yet detonate in light, ruining all; great right subsumed finally in paltry wrong. What do we know? Still?...
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