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Raven, Wind and Sea
There was chaos in my sleep,
in the blackness of my sleep
but they said I was not dreaming,
only sleeping,
only dying,
on and on the river flowed,
a raven flying by the shore.
The moon shine lit the water's face,
as often as he kissed the rocks
where for a time
my dreams lay dashed,
and swam with flotsam
from my cog.
Why am I here? I asked the bird,
that demon bird,
that corvine sprite,
He landed on a jutting rock
and in his priestly prayer
mocked my flesh,
that foul bird,
that craven beast!
I shuddered in the biting wind
and hoped against all hell to wake,
but then they laughed:
the whispering wind,
the kissing waves,
the steadfast rocks,
the raven black as night.
You do not dream, they said again.
I sang a hymn from childhood learned
in this uncouth, plutonian bay;
Our Father, and the Credo said,
and thrice Ave Maria cried,
but all the stars had gone away.
I cried, and in a blinding spell
I fled the very face of hell,
and when I asked for grace from heaven,
the clouds broke down and wept for me.
I looked for God, but only found myself.
Comments
loved
Fri, 2013-12-20 20:08
here I come only to salvage
a deep set in poetry
and the epicurial poet
help all do comment
and uphold the poets
loved