I appreciate so many of Wendell Berry’s poems. This one has perhaps struck me more forcibly because I am acutely aware of the environment around me, having grown up half a block from the nearest farm, at the edge of town, and spending my summers free from dawn until dusk in (Near, Mother. Just near…) sloughs and creeks, lakes and rivers in the dirt-rich lands and the rocky hills at the eastern edge of the Red River Valley of the North.
A selection from “A Poem on Hope”
It is hard to have hope. It is harder as you grow old,
For hope must not depend on feeling good
And there is the dream of loneliness at absolute midnight.
You also have withdrawn belief in the present reality
Of the future, which surely will surprise us, …
Full text: https://johnsuhar.wordpress.com/2010/12/30/wendell-berry-a-poem-on-hope/
Video of Wendell Berry reading his poem: http://billmoyers.com/content/poetry-readings-by-wendell-berry/