When we know what raven knows
we will sing the secret name
of mist and cave
Raven sees her self
in every blade of grass
she enters the heart of stone
and shines with the brilliance of diamonds
The saraband of light on waves
the sacristy of worms
infuse her like the fragrance of lilies
Raven is the throat of the forest
the jubilation of cedar to ocean
her flight a plume of smoke from the molten
core
When we know what raven knows
we will honour the bright centre
and our bones will be wings of prayer
Yvonne Mackenzie
A community of artists living and working on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada
...from Lost
ReplyDelete"...No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren...."