Wendell Berry, "The Peace Of Wild Things".
I posted this before some time ago but resharing because Wendell Berry passed away this week and it's such a good poem.
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This one of my favorite poems, it's nothing that hasn't been said before or since. Yet something about the "...I come into the presence of still water." is just so evocative for me, I can't really put into words but it sets off this almost explosive tide of feeling in me.
Reminds me of a photo I took this last weekend.
Edit: Never mind, the photo keeps falling off. It’s a great blue heron in an estuary.