800092  Poems Read Home Login

 The Unfairness Of Angels

dreamweavertheunfairnessofangels
Silver Raven




The pitter-patter of raindrops echoes amongst the dense pine forest
The grey clouds above can be seen as specks upon the emerald leaves
Small icicle drops of water, like tears, drip into puddles on the muddy floor
A bohemian silence surrounds this forest, darkness mixed with light
I am not lost within these woods, more a guest
Sheltering from the cold the wet overcast skies that I had grown accustomed to
A bird's song distracts me from my path, a calling, like a siren of nature
Such tranquil and loving and needy are its chorus I am transfixed
And as the birds song becomes louder, and louder, I realized where I am
In a forest of the deepest mythical beauty
Where shadows flick from the corners of my eyes
Harvest creatures from a realm I only dream about after dusk
I have no idea what time it is here, or how long I have wandered alone
The multi coloured rainbow that streaks through the clearing awakens me
And the bird's song is louder than ever
And then I see her, for I now it is female, for no man can be this beautiful
Actually is neither man or lady I see, but a bird
A raven, sitting upon a log, the rainbow behind her
This raven is not like any I have ever seen before
For the raven is bright silver
It's gentle song touches my heart and I fall to my knees and weep
My tears joining the raindrops, which have formed the puddle, I cry into
As I crawl closer i see that the raven has a damaged wing
Slightly bent, but not broken
With further examination I see a thorn within its wing
Yet hurt and in discomfort it continues to sing
I reach out my hand, and she bows down her head
Trusting me where as nature has been such a cruel mistress to her
I pull out the thorn, and a trickle of blood stains her silver wings
As I look into those dark small piercing eyes
I see all of mothers' natures' creation
And I feel as though I seen beauty in its real form
The form of a silver raven
The rainbow fades, and the forest feels alive again
The drops of rain that line the grass
Mirror the colour of the raven
And as she spreads her wings and takes to the sky
In the distance I hear her cry
“Thankyou.”







©2000 - 2022, Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.

Visit My Home Page | Start Your Own Poetry Site | PoetryPoem
[ Control Panel ]  [ Today's Poetry - ALL Poets ]   [ Search ]