Raven

A raven’s feather sways listlessly, landing knowingly on the terrain of my feelings~

Instructing my direction, the raven’s discussion strike’s inspiration to my plight~

Many think him old and withered; I confided in his sage eyes, as his gaze emotes my gut reaction~

His proverbs are a spiders web that symbolize my vestige, sticky with the expectation the images project, he speaks of your voice and waves the intention that strikes comfort in my logic~

Bringing me solace in my continuous conversations of inevitability; I want nothing more than to balance my thoughts among the notes of the raven’s talon’s~

Speak to me I beg, make me bleed contentment in my final confidence, take me with you as you wrap your secret message around my disclosure~

The raven’s smile brings me belief that my intuition's are not objects pitched through a slit in thought.

He flees in flight toward my bosom, not fearing his entry, I welcome the raven into my soul, unchained and free to soar~

Karla Arce© 06/06/09