What can I say that I have not said before?
So I’ll say it again.
The leaf has a song in it.
Stone is the face of patience.
Inside the river there is an unfinishable story
And you are somewhere in it
And it will never end until it ends.
Take your busy heart to the art museum and the
Chamber of commerce
But take it also to the forest.
The song you heard singing in the leaf when
You were a child
Is singing still.
I am of years lived, so far, seventy-four,
And the leaf is singing still.
“What Can I say”
by
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