The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton
Conjuring sunlight from deep caverns
is not a difficult task if one knows
the secrets one must breathe.
It is not weakness nor cowardice to surrender
to the sky's declarations.
Shelter can be found within a brace of stones
if they are properly inclined and navigated well.
One may divine truth from uncertainty
by being familiar with the way eyes turn
and bodies shift,
a subconscious rendering of clarity.
An onslaught of storms may be discerned
if one listens closely to birdsong
and watches leaves curl away from destruction.
They will indicate a change of seasons
with their loose swirl as it tightens fiercely.
If you observe the movements that surround you,
you will notice the quiet speech of soil,
the shimmered echoes of tides,
the elusive fragrance of wildflowers,
the lilting tongues of insects
which scurry beneath your heavy feet,
garrulous and wise beyond measure.
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