And let me say this,

I watch Ravens pump

glossy black wings


Hear them beat the air down as they

fly low over the garden,

over my head


Or see them black

at a distance, passing smoothy

in front of Mt Abe


Or listen to their chatter and deliberation

at nesting time, and the first flight

of gawky fledglings


Cherish glossy curled feathers

found under their nest tree.


And I just come out of myself and soar

with each Raven sound and sight.

My totem animal not doubt –

or my next reincarnation.




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