Mother Raven

Let a swarthy Goddess be your breath.
Then you won't need any rule
but wonder.
Just for a little while
let joy and sorrow drink
from the same bowl,
the one you've been holding
in your rib cage
and polishing too carefully.
What chalice doesn't get chipped
and spill its feral energy?
No need to count the drops,
each one is whole.
Mother Raven in her fire-flecked feathers
brings you no sun disk dipped
in heart wine, but a still
inward whirling,
circled splendor of emptiness,
portal to the Uncreated.
Now listen to evening fall.
Beyond far faint star music, hear
the final beauty, silence,
cleansing your mind
of the need to awaken.
Let the grace of the present moment
illuminate your hollow bones
from inside.

Image by Cororo on DeviantArt