by Wendell Berry
Planting trees early in spring,
we make a place for birds to sing
in time to come. How do we know?
They are singing here now.
There is no other guarantee
that singing will ever be.
From Collected Poems, 1957-1982. North Point Press, New York (1985). This poem first appeared in A Part (1980)
Reknown essayist, poet, novelist and farmer, Wendell Berry is the author of more than thirty books and has emerged as an eloquent spokesman for conservation, common sense and sustainable agriculture. He lives and works with his wife, Tanya, on their farm in in Henry County, Kentucky. This poem is posted here with his permission.