Ravenwings

 

At the end of your
enchanted path
the gong of the sea
and the silence of the desert
are one Name.
When you arrive, your
song is already here,
waiting for you.
Greeting you with
dark troughs of light.
You learn your own name
in these waves.
You are the rainbow blindly
curving toward dawn.
Light snuffs you out.
Did you mean to die?
The surface of every sphere
tilts toward its vacuum.
Did you mean to pour
your yolk into the void
with the whisper of ravenwings?
The zeroing patience
of a psalm, unafraid
to mingle grief with devotion.
Moment by moment
you carve your body
out of brave annihilations,
a weightless violet flame.
Your soul is the dancing tongue
of a hummingbird. 
Now we must define 
"enchantment":
to sing the world into existence.
To wear a veil
that conceals everything
beneath transparency.
This is why you prefer the night, 
and blackness becomes you.

Ravenart by my dear friend Liz Miller