The Raven
The Raven
I am the precipice of the mountain you are standing upon,
I am the feather that lands at your feet when you are alone,
I am the dream wrapped around you, holding you tight on a cold winter’s eve:
I am the moon catching you when you fall from the sky,
I am the song of the flower that kisses you good night,
I am the wildfire that burns between us.
I am the heart that goes on beating even when it is broken,
I am the kiss that bruises you, the lust that does not struggle.
I am the first time you fell in love from a distance:
I am the faithful and the betrayed, the unthinkable,
I am the silent lover, the starving lover, the lover who wants to be yours.
I am the unfinished stone you searched for in the quarry:
I am the naked earth who stands before you awaiting your hammer and your blade.
I am the poet, the sculptor and the shadow reading your words,
I am the dream between dusk and darkness,
I am the pathless woods the broken compass and the poetry lost in translation.
I was the one you were seeking
because I was seeking you.
I was the wildfire that burned between us.
( Now )
I am the embers laying down in darkness.
I am temptation,
I am the raven.
Poetry and Art © Gesso Cocteau
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