When the Raven Came
The raven’s wing was so close to my head
the swooshing split my being wide open.
Like an unexpected christening,
the gray air of angels.
Nothing has been the same since.
I am here now with the air and earth
under the wing of gratitude
sitting in the trees covered
with mossy fur watching.
My eyes transport my body
into all things
beginning and ending.
A full view of the world
birthing, the grave,
both an equal struggle.
The river, the dirty bank,
wild daisies.
The green things eaten.
The meat and the bone.
The shame that is required to kill to live
without this great misery we are lost.
There will not be bread upon
the water
nor a small
hand of a god, that dips into some
luminescent pool.
to heal you.
Salvation is walking through it.
No matter how good, angry or pleasant
That it’s a relief that you did not
have to suffer
like another
the same waits for you
it comes to you as all
great sorrow
loss
terror comes
whether you feel it in your bones or flesh
or you watch it with your tired eyes.
It comes to pull you into the meat of life
Place you slanted into the deep water.
Baptism and release.
See there out of the corner of your eye?
The small bird lights
on that branch?
It has known far more sorrow
than you and sings.
J.V. Foerster has been published in: Eclectica, Agnieszka’s Dowry, Midnight Mind, Premiere Generation Ink, Fickle Muse, Oak Bend Review, Fox Chase Review, Elohi Gaduji to name just a few. She has work forthcoming in The Fiery Scribe,The Bluebird Word and Orchard Lea Anthology. She was nominated in 2011 for a Pushcart for her poem “Apple Girl” and included in Rosemont College Anthology. She is also a published painter and photographer. J.V. lives in Portland, Oregon.
Website: J.V. Foerster – Poet, painter, photo taker (jvfoerster.com) also
Amethyst Review 