Time For Serenity, Anyone? by Wiiliam Stafford

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 seem to be going somewhere.
This wilderness with a great peacefulness in it.
This motionless turmoil, this everything dance.