by Elsa Johnson
I will speak now in other voices : whippoorwill legend saver of lost souls
haunting the wood’s edge in springtime calling the dusk moths home
I will speak now in the voice of chipmunk quicksilver placer of sunflowers
seed-side-down offerings made for one more day’s safe grace
I will speak in the hawk’s voice : sharp-shinned huntress shrieker
gifter of quick death she of the ice-cold heart the silent swift-moving shadow
and in the vulture’s voice : gleaner wing-rider wind-soarer whose presence is the priesthood of death
I will speak now in other voices : hummingbird chitter high in the tops of
linear locust trees : small writhen ring-necked snakes alarmed
loosened from sheltering stone : Yellow-jackets that sting and chase
to sting again and night-time horses — bolting — lightening
flares — thunder-claps and I will speak for the un-wild deer
quiet-eyed at the yard’s edge browsing the bushes without fear
I would speak for what does not speak : the cruel devouring mantis the delicate
damselfly she sometimes hunts — for bumblebees butterflies drunk
in the milkweed the goldenrod — all that multitude of tiny insects
buzzing flowers : in red crocosmia sprawling purple pungent
oregano yellow-eyed blue buddleia crystal-crusted daylilies
star-burst filaments of cimicifuga and bee-glad phlox
I too will stand to speak for the wood drake and for the still water on which he
rests in beauty For the great heron the night heron the ‘fisher’ flashing
low over the water — for the geese drifting among the reeds the lily
pads and for the strong-jawed turtle waiting lurking below
I will learn and speak the language of lichen of grey-green filigree
coating stone hiding time — the language of the aging oaks
riddled by borer riven with wilt — I will learn the codes of worms
of microscopic mycorrhizal fungi leaf mulch and leaf mold decay —
the language of the mysterious complexity of dirt duff ruffled rhubarb
and all that driven erotic unfurling of spring new risen
out of the driven luminous dying of fall I will speak for them
and this voice too : ocean : least knowable greatest of all her words
of hush and sibilance of susurration that mystic speech that echoes down
our own chambered seas words of the wet world that tell us we live
not as we think on our own terms but helplessly : Hear that
internal roar Feel the great wave’s pull the irresistible draw of its wash
its tremble tumble its untranslatable speech made up of songs of all
the large and lesser creatures of Sea I will speak for them : sharp tooth
and finned tail tentacle and gill I will speak for what cannot speak — even
for that vastest whale wrecked broken on the broad beach by plastic
I will speak in other voices to bear witness