I heard the black feather calling.
Our season stopped in the night.
A vision came to my eyes.
The moon had given her disclosure.
She spoke of holding our sadness.
She granted our mourning may rest.
She told the crow to gather our grief.
Now, He offers his feathers as keep.
We have become suspended by the moon.
And protected by the crow.
Our season stopped in the night.
A vision came to my eyes.
The moon had given her disclosure.
She spoke of holding our sadness.
She granted our mourning may rest.
She told the crow to gather our grief.
Now, He offers his feathers as keep.
We have become suspended by the moon.
And protected by the crow.
2 comments:
Amazing. suspended by the moon/protected by crow
I love this imagery. I have a new respect for crows now.
I fixed your header. No charge.
Love you, Mom
This poem is so beautiful it gave me the shivers.
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