Sunday, December 12, 2010

The Wild Rose



.
.
Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart,
.
suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose blooming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only a shade,
.
and one more I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.
.
Wendell Berry
.

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