The Wild Geese
Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer’s end. In time’s maze
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed’s marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. What we need is here.
This is a poem by Wendell Berry he was a Professor for many years and has moved back to his boyhood home in Kentucky. He farms the old way, with horses and such, nurtures the land and talks about it. I think he is one of the most Buddhist Christians I know.
I try not to get stuck on labels. But their are times where the definitions become very much a gray area. If you look further into this man he has many ideas that I think would benefit society. He does not like computers. He wrote a fantastic article I will try to discuss in the post. But if you read the last paragraph of this poem it seems to almost have a Buddhist lean to it. I am thinking that this could be a great way to look around and see other people that do not feel they are Buddhist but can be great teachers to us all.