The Seed is in the Ground

The seed is in the ground.
Now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work.

-Wendell Berry

A poem for when your losses press hard

A gracious Sabbath stood here while they stood
Who gave our rest a haven.
Now fallen, they are given
To labor and distress.
These times we know much evil, little good
To steady us in faith
And comfort when our losses press
Hard on us, and we choose,
In panic or despair or both,
To keep what we will lose.

For we are fallen like the trees, our peace
Broken, and so we must
Love where we cannot trust,
Trust where we cannot know,
And must await the wayward-coming grace
That joins living and dead,
Taking us where we would not go–
Into the boundless dark.
When what was made has been unmade
The Maker comes to His work.

by Wendell Berry, emphasis mine.

Today's weather

Warmer than yesterday:

It's springtime on the prairie.

Public Service Announcement

Posted on the bathroom door:

 

What does it mean that the adults in the house merely participated this affair, rather than doing something to remedy the problem?