The Raven
Diaphanous thoughts stream fluidly through the eye of the raven
Exploring the realms of Icarus and Daedelus, he stares into the infinite pool of liquid ebony
Shining blackly with ill fortune he calls once, summoning streaming lights that dim our fires
Ah how dark the raven's stance, his arching back and yellowed beak haunt my dreams.
The messenger is his name. He pecks and caws his coded knowledge.
His strikes echo through our ages, remembering chimes that open hearts.
His eyes lock ours.. We fly We flee, He smiles impossibly
That inner grin, that hollow squawk, the field of barley's secret talk,
of daylight's whispering shadows, long and black.
The inner grim that outcasts him. The silent sound, reverbs around.
The eye of jewel espies the fool.
The time is now, he takes a bow.
The Raven's wings cry dark and cross, the Van Gogh field of yellow moss
The echo of his distant gun, cracking loud thru trees and sun..
Pirouetting! his shadow falls....
the Raven,.. witness to it all.
21st Century writing .. feb 2013
PMcb
