love is always too much.
We did not make it.
Though we drink till we burst,
we cannot have it all, or want it all.
In its abundance
it survives our thirst.
In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill, and sleep,
while it flows
through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us,
except we keep returning to its rich waters
thirsty.
We enter,willing to die,
into the common
wealth of its joy.
-Wendell Berry
Some of his most awesome books:
A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997
The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry
A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997
Wendell Berry and the Cultivation of Life: A Reader's Guide
The Mad Farmer Poems
The Unsettling of America: Culture & Agriculture
