Weymouth (21)


As night draws in and silence comes, the door is locked, the curtains drawn

I am alone, the world recedes and sleeps until another dawn.

Yet in the quiet, midnight hour with feathers soft against my skin

Two ravens whisper in my ear, as Thought and Memory begin.

Within the darkness of their wings stir images, both dark and bright,

That dance within the secret heart and quiet hours of the night.

A past replayed, as on a screen, as tears and laughter, broken dreams,

And in their midst a single spark, a star of quiet beauty gleams.

Deep in its central molten core, from what has been the present grows

A seed that reaches to the sun, and borrowing its light it glows

With inner glory, burning bright, with all the mornings yet to be,

The future held within the wings of ravens, Thought and Memory.

11 thoughts on “Ravens”

  1. I have always eagerly received the message of Ravens – as glad tidings of pending change – even when, historically – they gather and show up to me in real life, to warn me of soon to be change that I most likely will consider ‘loss’ – even before I learned from others their ‘message’, given lore and shamanic traditions, I noticed them and remember the times they showed up in such repetition, as if they were just ‘waiting’ for me by my car – at work, etc. Raven shows up often and in number, over space of time, for me? No matter where I am at? I hope for the best, plan for the worst, now – Only because, I still struggle with being ‘blindsided’ even though, that’s rather Life’s flow here and there, right? LOL


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