Friday, December 27, 2013

wren (vignettes)

The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton


a trembling quiver 
cupped within my hands,
a quiet treble, its dazed feathers bold and vibrant 
with tender innocence - 

fear not, 
beautiful bird - 

you will soon know flight again.


children huddled in the park
gathering moss and mud in gleeful abandon
not feeling or fleeing the shadows of adulthood
just rebelling and reveling in the ache of sunlight


bent wings shall straighten and unfurl
under caring hands that understand the push and pull of wind,
the arch of a mountainous grasp

tomorrow is a promise
as yet unkept


weep only for beauty's sake, 
not for sorrow. It deepens its furrowed glare
with each drop that falls, uncaught.


hearts brighten as sun rises -
anticipation of an instant  
when hands touch and clasp, 
something new and somehow sacred.

all the world shall fall away
when eyes meet and grasp
the significance of such a moment

soothing and glorious,
bereft of nothing, 
a waterfall of everything,
all at once.