July 6, 2003

Winged Raven


In the depths of blackness

Lies the Raven’s beauty.

The Sun does glisten and gleam

Upon her fragile beating wings

Facets of color in every hue

So unique to her it’s true,

Cover her beautiful wings

In the azure sky that she flies through.

Ah, but now

The Raven lay

Winged upon the ground,

Never more to fly your way.

Lying listless upon Earth’s bed,

Yet, still she is not dead.

These Beautiful wings

Now stained in red.

Once, she flew

Upon the Wind,

Floating on the currents whim.

But now, the Earth beckon’s her.

Death’s call echoes

The winged Raven’s fall ,

Her colors now

Dull in hue.

Her last breath,

Her last call.

No more to fly,

But to the Earth

She now is tied…

Native American Poetry
About Raven SiJohn

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