THE MAN BORN TO FARMING                                                   SLEEP

The grower of trees, the gardener, the man born to farming,                 I love to lie down weary

whose hands reach into the ground and sprout,                                    under the stalk of sleep

to him the soil is a divine drug.  He enters into death                            growing slowly out of

yearly, and comes back rejoicing.  He has seen the light lie down             my head,

in the dung heap, and rise again in the corn.                                         the dark leaves meshing.

His thought passes along the row ends like a mole.

What miraculous seed has he swallowed

that the unending sentence of his love flows out of his mouth           

like a vine clinging in the sunlight, and like water                     

descending in the dark?                                                         

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

THE STONES                                                              TO KNOW THE DARK

I owned a slope full of stones.                                        To go in the dark with a light

Like buried pianos they lay in the ground,                                    is to know the light.

shards of old sea-ledges, stumbling blocks                       To know the dark, go dark. 

where the earth caught and kept them                                        Go without sight,

dark, an old music mute in them                                      and find that the dark, too,

that my head keeps now that I have dug them out.                                   blooms and sings,

I broke them where they slugged in their dark                 and is traveled by dark feet

cells, and lifted them up in pieces.                                               and dark wings.

As I piled them in the light

I began their music.  I heard their old lime

rouse in breath of song that has not left me.

I gave pain and weariness to their bearing out.                FEBRUARY 2, 1968

What bond have I made with the earth,                           In the darkness of the moon, in

having worn myself against it?  It is a fatal singing                       flying snow, in the dead

I have carried with me out of the day.                                         of winter,

The stones have given me the music                               war spreading, families dying, the

that figures for me their holes in the earth                                   world in danger,

and their long lying in them dark.                                    I walk the rocky hillside, sowing            

They have taught me the weariness that loves the ground,                        clover.

and I must prepare a fitting silence.                                                       

 

WINTER NIGHT POEM FOR MARY                         THE SEEDS

As I started home after dark                                          The seeds begin abstract as their

I looked into the sky and saw the new moon,                               species,

an old man with a basket on his arm.                              remote as the name on the sack

He walked among the cedars in the bare woods.             they are carried home in: Fayette           

They stood like guardians, dark                                       Seed Company

as he passed.  He might have been singing,                     Corner of Vine and Rose.  But  

or he might not.  He might have been sowing                              the sower

the spring flowers, or he might not.  But I saw him          going forth to sow sets foot       

with his basket, going along the hilltop.                            into time to come, the seeds falling         

                                                                                    on his own place. He has prepared a way

                                                                                    for his life to come to him, if it will.

                                                                                    Like a tree, he has given roots

                                                                                    to the earth, and stands free.

 

Farming: A Handbook  Poems by Wendell Berry  New York: Harcourt Brace, 1970.