by William Stafford
I like to live in the sound of water,
in the feel of mountain air. A sharp
reminder hits me: this world still is alive;
it stretches out there shivering toward its own
creation, and I'm part of it. Even my breathing
enters into the 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?” from Even in Quiet Places. Copyright © 1996 by The Estate of William Stafford. Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Confluence Press, confluencepress.com. (buy now)
