Thursday, November 5, 2015

Goddess of Ravens



This is what happens when you listen to the Mediaeval Baebes on repeat:



The feathers fall.
Each step, black and sensual.
She sees me and points Her finger -
black and crooked - through the fog of the dawn.
I am Here, She calls to me
under Her eyes. I am Here.
Only those of whom She wishes to see will be seen.
The Raven flies over me and I am blessed.
She calls to the warriors
and tells them not to fear Death.
I stand behind Her and gather feathers
for those who are favoured.
The battle begins.
Goddess of Ravens, they cry,
Be With Us.
She sees, She hears.
Come to me, daughters of the Raven,
and live beyond.
Warriors, dressed in colours soon to be muddied and blessed with blood.
They pull out their swords.
She raises Her arms and the Ravens fly.
Follow, She tells them. Follow
and give them their glory.
She of the Ravens calls to me and I have no choice.
Sustain the disbelief and acknowledge.
The fog rolls once more.
The Fae stand tall, hair moving against no wind.
Rise up and take to battle.
They run, shouting the names of those who watch over them.
The battle begins and turns the Fate.
I stand behind Her and watch.
The feathers fall.

(photo taken at Grand Canyon, Arizona - Kimberly B. Richardson)

1 comment:

Tommy Hancock said...

The imagery here is very strong and there's a current of emotion that makes this not only resonate, but it really sort of pops. Not like a song, but it's rhythmic and engaging. Fantastic stuff!