Grace

In Meeting for Worship yesterday, I opened my Wendell Berry book to this poem.

It's introduced as being "for Gurney Norman,quoting him". Not sure who Gurney Norman might be, but here it is...


The woods is shining this morning.
Red, gold and green, the leaves
lie on the ground, or fall,
or hang full of light in the air still.
Perfect in its rise and in its fall, it takes
the place it has been coming to forever.
It has not hastened here, or lagged.
See how surely it has sought itslf,
its roots passing lordly through the earh.
See how without confusion it is
all that it is, and how flawless
its grace is. Runing or walking, the way
is the same. be still. Be still.
"He moves your bones, and the way is clear."