by Wendell Berry
In the early morning dark
he dreamed of the spring woodsflowers
standing in the ground,
dark yet under the leaves and under the bare cold branches.
But in his dream he knew their way
was prepared, and in their time
they would rise up and be joyful.
And though he had dreamed earlier
of strife, his sleep became peaceful.
He said: If we, who have killed
our brothers and hated ourselves,
are made in the image of God,
then surely the bloodroot,
wild phlox, trillium, and mayapple
are more truly made
in God’s image,
for they have desired to be
no more than they are,
and they have spared each other.
is undiminished by their past.
Let me, he said in his dream,
become always less a soldier
and more a man,
for what is unopened in the ground
is pledged to peace.
When he woke and went out
a flock of wild ducks that had fed
on the river while he slept
flew off in fear of him.
And he walked, manly, into the new day.
He came to his window
where he sat and looked out,
the earth before him, blessed
by his dream of peace,
bad history behind him.
Prayer: Lord, let me use the words of my heart to speak the poems of your love and grace. Amen.