Friday, May 31, 2013

The Rage: for Sylvia Plath



The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton







The rage consumes all in its path,
a veritable wildfire of wonder
in its brutal determination.

This fury cannot be contained -
it eludes capture with agonizing precision.

It is a miracle to survive the onslaught,
let alone ride the wave all the way into shore.

I am amazed at my presence here,
assured that angels
surround me with their finest wings -

there is no other explanation
for remaining alive
within this sorrowful storm.