Two Poems

Memories

We found the two upon the ground
thrown from the nest
too young to fare on their own.
One ran for mom and we watched
sheltering the little black bodies
from the harsh world we knew
nothing of. They were safer there
then we ever were when
sent out over the world;
but we didn’t know it then
and so we guarded them fiercely
till our mother gathered us and them
inside. We fed them with birdseed
and childlike attention, growing strong
on their otherness, black beaks
and curious — cunning — eyes.
Every beast is a pet in childish
sight but every child must grow
and so they went, one and two,
to gather with other beasts.
We said goodbye not to crows
but to ravens.

Thoughts

Our wings are now tired,
a thousand miles beneath our breasts,
the years drift by swiftly
and we return again having seen
and being seen. We shed the wings
we lifted from childhood dreams
to see the middling earth
because we must put away childish things.
The ravens are long gone
in their own flight about the world
and have — as was feared — not returned .
Mother and father await us;
and we return with a thousand stories
a thousand visions, our journey
guarded and fortunate even
in failure. I see black wings in sky
and quiet shapes atop the trees
and wonder: are you the child
of those we saved, the third or
fourth generation, remembering
the untold stories of your parent
lying frightened in the circle
but saved and lifted up and
born again despite their fall?
We live and return and go forth
and all our stories are life
and life itself is the story
upon the page and it takes
to wing.

[This really is a single poem under the title Two Poems. It was inspired by a friends description of discovering two young ravens kicked out of the nest. Much of it is my embellishment.]

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