about singing your song

I Go Among Trees and Sit Still

by Wendell Berry

I go among trees and sit still.

All my stirring becomes quiet 

around me like circles on water.

My tasks lie in their places

 where I left them, asleep like cattle.

Then what is afraid of me comes

 and lives a while in my sight.

What it fears in me leaves me,

 and the fear of me leaves it.

It sings, and I hear its song.

Then what I am afraid of comes.

 I live for a while in its sight.

What I fear in it leaves it,

 and the fear of it leaves me.

It sings, and I hear its song.

After days of labor,

 mute in my consternations,

I hear my song at last,

 and I sing it. As we sing,

the day turns, the trees move.