Suspension
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It is the destruction of the world in our own lives that drives us
Half insane; and more than half. To destroy that which we were given in
trust: how will we bear it?
It is our own bodies that we give to be broken, our bodies existing
Before and after us in clod and cloud, worm and tree
That we, driving or driven, despise in our haste to die, our country
Speeding to junk. To have lost, wantonly, the ancient forests,
The vast grasslands, is our madness, the presence in our very bodies
Of our grief.
Wendell Barry
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