The raven knows all too well . . . .

The Raven and his friend that we cannot see . . . .

The Raven knows, all too well

Of all the things that I have never seen

Like fairies, love and midday dreams

Secrets he keeps hidden under wind swept wings

He remains silent and keeps his thoughts to himself

Like a book of answers high upon a distant shelf

I call to him, beckoning him to reveal all to me

He has never answered, he has never replied

Yet, I can see the untold secrets in his dark shining eyes

The Raven has not always been near

It was late winter that first his shadow, then he did appear

The Raven has no shelter, nest or home

Like a statue, standing silent, vigilant and alone

He can always be found, poised upon my garden wall

Of all the garden guests, who come to call

It is that black Raven, I care for least of all

I watch him from my window, he knows I am there

He goes about his chores, glancing back, just to see

If I have noticed him, looking up at me

He turns his ebony tail to me and then

Looks over his shoulder and grins

I see him talking to no one there

I am sure he is fooling with me

Maybe he is speaking to someone

A friend of his that I cannot see

In my mind, I see myself setting a trap for him

To capture this joking and clever dark bird

And make him tell me, all those secrets I’ve never heard

Where do fairies go, when footsteps they hear?

And what of the Angels who float o'er my head

The ones I never see, the ones who watch over me

Yes, he shall reveal all his secrets, and then

I will set free my Raven, my feathered friend

Picture of Raven and child, artist unknown, friends_by_flina-d5n4jwv.jpg