Wide skies and grace

I recently stumbled across a poem by R.S. Thomas (having never heard of him before; sorry, Wales). Many of his poems can be found online but, in the two whole minutes I tried, I couldn't find a good link for this one:

THE MOOR

It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart's passions - that was praise
Enough; and the mind's cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.

- R.S. Thomas

Elizabeth Goudge, A Book of Peace: An Anthology (London: Michael Joseph Ltd, 1967) p.28.