A Raven Perched upon a Gravestone
I saw death once
and She laughed in my face.
The ebola virus is as divine as a church
(if not more so)
and there is more strength to b e found
in the aftermath of a tornado
than in teh brightness of a sunny day.
On a stormy winter day
(death is omnipresent in the dark of the year)
I walked in a graveyard
and I saw a raven perched upon a gravestone;
The raven cawed her secrets
and I, perpetual student of existence,
am still unraveling them.
Perched on a gravestone,
I see a mirror of myself
in the tree, struck by lightning,
which loses some branches
only to grow new ones.
If I meet death again,
I will laugh along.
Ashley Ravenwood, 3/12/97
