The Raven
Raven feast, From pools of glory.
Raven patterns or a Serpent.
Wings or a belly.
Serpent feast, From pools of glory.
Raven feast, From pools of glory.
Patterns dissolve, time reveals what's left.
Same pool of glory Two paths.
Wings or a belly. Flying or crawling.
What is left when the Raven dissolves? Or the Serpent? Who flies and who crawls?
Deep in the heart of the Raven, true to its Name, the Raven remains.
The Mockingbird loses its Wings, devoured by the Serpent; feasting on scorched dirt and dry parchment.
Feast Raven, in eternal pools of glory, drink deep from the fountain of life, expand your Wings; Roam the Eternal Clouds in Winds of Fire, free from the icy, clumpy, dirt, forever.
By Kim Mayfield