ravensong The Human Condition with Susan Marie

a threshold, she stood,
feet, bare, body clad,
in white cotton raiment
swirling about her ankles,
as the wind
sang like a lute,
upon the still night sky.

a woman's song
carried upon the breeze,
playing with the edges
of light and dark,
night and day,
the precious time,
between
dusk and nightfall.

her ravensong
burst forth
from mouth,
wide open in awe,
chin upturned,
jawbone outlined,
tears precious
gifted in humble grace,
against the light
of the coming
of fresh eve.

the lyrics
danced around her shoulders,
tickling them just so -
tussling hair,
three feet long -
burnt sienna skied tresses.

a dreamcatcher
she was,
weaving lives
within lives,
connecting the dots,
with her fingertip raised
pointed at stars,
moving them
across Father Sky -
to meld into one another -

just
like
lovers.

this is her solace -
the ancient firmament
where Gods and Goddesses exist,
eternal,
where celestial wars rage,
she pulls both arms outward
with heart, full -
like some majestic holy crucifixion
and met the maelstrom head on -

for this
is
all
she
knows.

- forward -

and she jumps
happily,
into this rebirth,
this knowing and unknowing,
learning and unlearning,
growing and dying,
smiling while screaming inside -

to lead
not only herself
but others -
into the great abyss,
the infinite chasm,
the unknown universe,
the holy grail,
the swan songs of birds,
the most precious calling
to the wild souls of nature,
beyond all
that
is.

a threshold, she stood
feet, bare, body clad,
in white cotton raiment
swirling about her ankles
as the wind
sang like a lute
upon the still night sky.

Words & Audio © Susan Marie
Artwork © Cate Parr
https://www.pinterest.com/cateparr/