Raven Moon

from ravensmoon.ca

Raven,

Trickster,

what are you saying,

when you look at me

with one eye?

Shapes shifting 

in the mist;

an owl, suddenly,

yellow eyes

like swinging lanterns -

what does it mean

when she ululates

and points

into the forest

with her

feathered wing?

A white cloud

trails across 

your black-mooned sky.

Perched atop

a fencepost,

a shaman

in ceremonial feathers

is smoking

the pipe of peace.

With his kind eyes,

he is 

looking at me,

and smiling.

Kids, Laurie set us an intriguing challenge at Real Toads on Friday in her A Word With Laurie series. (I'm late, as usual!) She wanted us to use the word phantasmagorical , which is described variously as something in a dream, having the appearance of an optical illusion, or a fantastic or deceptive appearance. I didnt use the word, but wrote to the meaning of the word.

I watched a raven fly overhead this morning, and the beginnings of this poem began. But the part about the shaman, or medicine man, actually happened to me. When I first fell ill in Tofino, the beginning of a huge change in my life, I woke one morning to see a shaman's face right in front of my eyes - he was in full ceremonial feathers, and his eyes were very kind. He was smiling at me. I took it as an assurance that I would be all right and, in fact, after a turbulent year or two, I was. As quickly as I saw him, his face faded into my waking reality. Now that I remember, it was a medicine man I knew from working among First Nations - he knew I was ill, and likely was praying for me that morning, so strongly that his face appeared before me. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.........

I will also post this for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United.