Raven

Raven walks upon death’s door beautifully adorned. Silky skin, pale and white entombs her heart that mourns. The black of death stole her joy now she lives life scorned. Gracefully her energy calls to those whom she forewarns. A silver streak in jet-black hair upon her back fuses Thoughts of death know hopes continue growing strong. Dreams of heaven invite her soul to feel cold breezes. Bereavement seeks the path to night passing through evil’s throng. Her tombstone waits to call her home to the place she longs to be. Where others, mothers, loved ones dear, seem to take away her fear. A sea of clouds lay at her feet tempting her soul to be free. While wading through death’s enticing shroud she frantically bids God near. Too soon, the magical ravens appear to encircle a distant light. Her hopes of peace and a painless end are merely an illusion. Spirits carry to the world beyond, their temperaments dull or bright. And death without heaven’s call sends the soul reeling in confusion. Metamorphosis befalls imagined, but change must reach the heart. Then, families both here and there can feel their spiritual bond. Rains may fall from bursting clouds and flowers soon after impart. Then, surprising beauty blooms again all around God’s created pond. Her gown of black caresses, gracefully flowing around the lonely girl inside, Raven reaches for her new life above mankind’s lustful longing eyes. She seeks to find many joyful days within the midst with God beside. Death sinks to the ground with her face in its hands; out loud life cries. Then, healing came through a miracle made especially to help sorrow mend. She felt the touch of the Savior’s hand as He softly said, “I Am” Beside you, Raven, I will stay; life’s bitterness shall surely amend. Happiness shall be your friend; I promised you my little lamb. © January 17, 2011 Dane Smith-Johnsen Written for Member Contest: "Among The Dead"