"Coloring the Conservation Conversation--One Word at a Time!"

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Wishing on a Raven

Two Ravens
Blacker than pitch night and lighter than thin air
Hang on to the edge of the world
Daring the coldest north wind to blow them from it
With their dagger -toed crow feet grasping the clouds
They tilt an obsidian feathered finger -- just enough to make time stand still
They croak and tumble in the violent uplift like acrobats—
Coaxing gravity to pull them down to the reality that mires me to rock, soil and earth

Playing on wings borrowed from a buteo and emboldened by a fearlessness foiled from falcons
They dance between the ethereal of ancient myth and the necessity of persistent legends
Tricking the zephyrs to take them where they want to be
Absent demands beyond the momentary sliver of space they claim
Between here and now and there and gone
I watch, and worship their bold black being
Envying their freedom without fear
and joy taken without regret

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