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