Saying Yea

The pause to listen and to drink

in the effervescence of a brightening breeze

through new leaves extends,

toxins of the spirit rising

to burst in a toast of release.

Surely in May we are the envy

of coastal dwellers whose peace

remains just the blessed surf.

I envy leaves, their touch: miles

by the million, tongues everywhere

saying yea, for the forest,

and in the night, for us.

–William Stafford, 1914-1993