Vision by Wendell Berry

 
 If we will have the wisdom to survive,
 to stand like slow growing trees
 on a ruined place, renewing, enriching it...
 then a long time after we are dead
 the lives our lives prepare will live
 here, their houses strongly placed
 upon the valley sides...
 The river will run
 clear, as we will never know it...
 On the steeps where greed and ignorance cut down
 the old forest, an old forest will stand,
 its rich leaf-fall drifting on its roots.
 The veins of forgotten springs will have opened.
 Families will be singing in the fields...
 Memory,
 native to this valley, will spread over it
 like a grove, and memory will grow
 into legend, legend into song, song
 into sacrament. The abundance of this place,
 the songs of its people and its birds,
 will be health and wisdom and indwelling
 light. This is no paradisal dream.
 Its hardship is its reality.

I don't know if there is anything else to say....

We are working towards a sacramental way of living. Which is not a paradisal dream. It is hard and real and good.

And it takes a lot of time.

Farmer Joel