The Raven Won’t Fly Until You Embrace the Night
When the dark night calls,
that raven sits steady,
his claws deep into your shoulder.
You listen for the sun to break into the woods,
crashing its symbols.
But the chill of moonlight still covers your bones.
when you least expect it,
you grow comfortable,
with the lack of warmth,
and walk through the forest.
It’s only then the dawn reaches down,
to scoop you in its arms,
and the raven flies.