Dwarfed by the sky at night These fearless mountains are nearly lost from sight Track the hill with a harvest moon Moving, shifting on across a winter sky
My thoughts drift away An Illusion of light Feel the rain in the air Where the thin mist is hiding, shrouded [I'm] there
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I like to live in the sound of water, in the feel of mountain air.
A sharp reminder hits me: this world is still alive,
it stretches out there shivering toward its own
creation. And I'm part of it. Even my breathing
enters into this elaborate give-and-take,
this bowing to sun and moon. day or night.
winter, summer, storm, still—this tranquil
chaos that seems to be going somewhere.
This wilderness with a great peacefulness in it.
This motionless turmoil, this everything dance.
~ William Stafford, "Time for Serenity, Anyone" in EVEN IN QUIET PLACES