If you’re feeling a little stressed or overwhelmed, I would really like if you would take a couple of minutes to slow down and read this poem.
by: Wendell Berry
From the porch at dusk I watched
a kingfisher wild in flight
he could only have made for joy.
He came down the river, splashing
against the water’s dimming face
like a skipped rock, passing
on down out of sight. And still
I could hear the splashes
farther and farther away
as it grew darker. He came back
the same way, dusky as his shadow,
sudeen beyond the willows.
The splashes went on out of hearing.
It was dark then. Somewhere
the night had accommodated him
–at the place he was headed for
or where, led by his delight,