Backwater Pond

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters
have settled after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands.
I drink a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones.
I hear them deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?

"At Backwater Pond" - Mary Oliver