After Snowmelt

an eloquence emerges:
a birdsong, a feast of wildflowers,
water falling in flight.
The salmon, wolves, beetles,
bull trout, mushrooms, caribou,
the cougars, beavers, and bears
in their broadened wild spaces
astonish the landscape.
And in the sky, too—
a huge cloud drift
changes shape, woven by wind.
Whether air or earth
with no human presence here,
the language of this poem
remains nonviolent.