A speaker walks down to a river on a warm summer night, meaning at first only to test the water's temperature. Instead, the visit turns into something quieter and more personal. The river seems to talk, its flowing sound comforting a heart that was beating fast, and its calm surface mirrors the stars above.
The feeling here is awe mixed with relief. For a brief moment the speaker imagines resting in peace, watched over by the sky, though the poem admits that this calm is fleeting, "just a shadow," gone as quickly as a blink. The ending is the most interesting part. The water is as black as ink, a "void of nothingness," yet the speaker still finds it beautiful. Darkness here isn't frightening; it's soothing.
The mood is hushed, reflective and gentle. The simple, direct language suits that stillness, and the poem leaves us with the sense that beauty can show up even in emptiness.