Prayer For Raven Reborn
PRAYER FOR RAVEN REBORN
It seems only yesterday Raven was a child, but she is gone now,
Wandering in unknown mist-shrouded fields with no flowers gay.
Does she recall her sunny childhood, with never a stormy day?
Her soul feels not my protection, and I cry to help her....... but how?
Long ago I swept her up from the earth in my arms
As she tired of the bright warm running life of youth,
Put her to sleep in peace, and marveled at her charms
As she slept in the child’s world of dare and truth.
My child running through the deep butter meadow,
Young knees yellow with topaz dust. She gazes at all
The smiling saffron rays-of-sun petals.
A field of dandelions’ bright amber glow,
Shining in the happy flower of their life,
Their radiant lemon fingers full-spread
To welcome the golden king of heaven.
And in shady spots under trees she picks earlier ones,
Metamorphosed from warm mustard to pale milk -
Puff-balls with furry innards, an imagined skin,
Hollow airy spheres of seeds.
Parachutes grey-white in the wind, they glide and twirl,
Cheerfully child-chased by my little girl.
She checks her time-clock with puffs of air-breath:
Two puffs near the heat of noon, but
As evening approaches more breaths are needed.
Souls of flowers float away - like us -
And are reborn in some spot not proud:
Maybe rough surroundings, maybe dust,
Wherever admittance is allowed.
Oh may her rebirth be soon and may I hold
Her just once again. May her soul run again in meadows.
The evening of my life is bitter with sorrows,
Not knowing she’s returned from grey to gold.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Written by Sydney Peck for the
Contest “Among the Dead” (A Rambling Poet)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
