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Image for the poem RAVENS

RAVENS

Ebony winged angels,
Ravens are not the Devil’s make
Rather, they have been sent to earth
By Heaven’s sake
 
Not morbid creatures
Prowling about a moonless night
Instead, they fly on the edge
Of the new morning light
 
Whether alighting upon a branch
Over a deer just killed
Or circling above another animal
That death has willed
 
The raven’s loud
Clarion call
Reminds us mortal
We are all
 
So, prepare your soul
And renew your spirit
For at any moment
A raven may come to visit
Written by snugglebuck
Published
Author's Note
In much of medieval Europe ravens were considered angels of death. Indeed, they would often gather on fields of battle, even before the fighting would start, anticipating the tragic outcome. Even more profound, ravens would roost near the scaffold in wait for the condemned to arrive. It was reported that several ravens were waiting patiently above the scaffold the day of Anne Boleyn’s beheading.  When she finally appeared, the ravens cried out in frenzied excitement.  She is said to have glanced at them and smiled just before the swordsman swung his blade.
So, if by chance you encounter an unfrighten raven who seems to be calling out to you. Take pause and reflect, for you too, may soon be dead.
My entry for the Raven competition.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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