this sound, this feel, this world . . .

i like to live in the sound of water, in the feel of the mountain air, a sharp reminder hits me: this wolrd 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 and 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