Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Reply to Yeats

The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton

Inspired by "A Poet to his beloved" by W.B. Yeats

Your fingers gently turn the pages of my existence
with silken intentions of navigating each chapter,
tenderly memorizing each line,
each nuance and gesture of ink spilled across this parchment;

I am your liquid library, your private source of knowledge and fire,
rising upon waves of wisdom, lowering myself to your mouth,
exhaling slow wildernesses to explore. 

The blue seas of your eyes lifts my wings from beneath my ribs 
as we soar beyond vastness of jagged russet shores. 

We vibrate, vibrant and bold, cautious and mild 
beneath boughs whose leaves curl inward,  away from storms we seek, 
every golden-etched moan an unfurling of gently whispered words -

a lithe dance sighing between wind, wheat and bud
as our songs are laced with tide and sand,
bearing memories from shells, ripened fruit 
to sustain our pale, moonless touch.