Raven’s Song


by Trinity La Fey

not a gentle planet, but a place of profound symbiosis, our home
a haven of interconnected holies, ancient ones
whose languages diverge and rhyme and converge
in the wind, in the magma, in the thrumming meter
of each pulse, each breath
permeating all, they dictate the boundaries and permissive bounties
of helix, of heart
each place, a part of a pattern in the song inescapable
a legacy legible to anyone who’ll listen
all down the cavern walls, our stories are written
in mineral-rich blood-waters, they tell tales
of floating, sinking, swimming, harmonies seeping
trails form from those who crawl and cling and dangle
cracks grow in the walls from those who slowly stretch their fragile
woody fingers out in all directions
interdependent, creatures of tooth and claw run and fly and sing out
I am here.  Where are you?  Here I am.
glitter, glitter everywhere in the deep, in the darkness
the wind above is not soft when there is strong news
the unfiltered light of our fire heart is not gentle
it beams out, blasting color down
through the water, the leaves, the magnetic layers of skin
in the cold, the water mirrors mineral
and falls a nutritious blanket over all
a biting, bitter buffer from the wind who no longer whispers
but whips urgent against artificial walls, shouting
Something is wrong.  So many things are wrong.
the change is coming too fast
some runners have too long ignored the teaching past
and now pretend the stories they tell
are inevitable and as vast as the real
the wind bellows cold in the wrong direction, warning
Those who don’t know they are sick can never heal.
glitter, glitter everywhere, on the land, in the light
seeping into the sage
whose dead layers are food and shelter
standing gnarled in wind shapes around their daughters
the ravens yell the saga of old to whomever will listen
they say
they say
our skins have grown feeble behind unreal walls
powdered stories the builders believe can be made permanent
they say: remember.
we were once as hardy as the moss, velvet black-green
carving life from ice and sediment
and knew change as a spiral
gradual, eventual
in tandem with what has been
as there is no exit from the sphere they see clearly
Over the horizon.
they caw
the heat what’s coming gets harder, the longer we remain obstinately ill
on thermals amidst the dissonance
Thought and Memory rise, circle and dance
singing:         consider.
our only home is ancestor, destiny
divine as any story
not soft, but holy, ever healing
they say
Give up.  Give in.  Death is not the end
but a recycling no walls will prevent or delay.
they say we have our own song in the pattern of is, was and shall be:
little creeks glinting on our way to the ocean
they call for a response
I am me.  Who are you?  Why aren’t you singing along?

Image: Raven sings to the full moon at Thacker Pass, by Elisabeth Robson