THE RAVEN
ANDTHE BLOOM

A Raven
cold and wet
perched on stiff limbs
defies time and sleep
eyes unblinking
waiting for the bloom
elusive and coy
flowering at dawn

The sickly raven
must to live, glimpse
the flowering of the bloom
at morn
least
a foul malady
eat its soul
and kill its heart

The bloom
only once in a thousand days
now only lightly stirs
but the raven hopes
coarsely crows
flutters its wings
yet too weak
to fly

Distant memories
lightning and death
shadows
and silence
screams in every tune
danger in the abyss-
the raven shivers
and flinches

Long nights
agonizing days
rain
and howling wind;
the raven fighting slumber
and pain
finally
falls to a comate stupor

When the sun rises
in a misty drizzle
and showers radiance
the bloom
blooms
in divine splendor
and the worlds behold
and rejoice

Soon the bloom
exhausted
of scent and beauty
wilts, dries
and
falls to the dry earth
becoming one
with the dust

The raven then
awakes with a start
eager
to witnesses the bloom
and instead sees
in earthy conclusion
a prophecy
of imminent demise.

*