The raven swoops low over the sky.
Dodging houses and buildings,
navigating thorugh the morning mist.
It comes to land on a trashcan lid.
In an alley next to a small cottage,
and it sees a little girl crying
huddled on the ground
wearing tattered rags
and no shoes on her feet.
And the raven watches.
And makes no move.
for it can feel the pressence
of death in the air
and it knows
that the little girl's father
has just passed away.
and that the mother does not want her.
So it watches
sending kind messages
inb its mind
and slowly, slowly,
the sobs lessen.
The sobs of the little helpless,
unwanted girl
come to a stop.
And she gets up
off the cobblestone street
and she walks away
on shaky legs
barely covered with grungy
fabric too small for her
and the raven watches her go,
knowing, as it takes flight,
that the little girl will make
a name for herself,
and do good in this shaken,
bleeding, hurting, healing,
world.
Dodging houses and buildings,
navigating thorugh the morning mist.
It comes to land on a trashcan lid.
In an alley next to a small cottage,
and it sees a little girl crying
huddled on the ground
wearing tattered rags
and no shoes on her feet.
And the raven watches.
And makes no move.
for it can feel the pressence
of death in the air
and it knows
that the little girl's father
has just passed away.
and that the mother does not want her.
So it watches
sending kind messages
inb its mind
and slowly, slowly,
the sobs lessen.
The sobs of the little helpless,
unwanted girl
come to a stop.
And she gets up
off the cobblestone street
and she walks away
on shaky legs
barely covered with grungy
fabric too small for her
and the raven watches her go,
knowing, as it takes flight,
that the little girl will make
a name for herself,
and do good in this shaken,
bleeding, hurting, healing,
world.