Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Child of my heart

So I told him to paint a picture
in his mind of a place where
he had been closest to happiness. He spoke

of the dunes, the willow shrubs
that became impromptu forts
and the ravens playing
in the sand-stirred air. But then

he said he couldn’t make the feeling
come, and
he wished
he’d never
lived on this earth
at all.

But I believe, at night, he unlocks
the cage he has built
and allows his soul to fly,

When that soul must return
at ravenrise
to slide over the sill and back under,
I imagine it carries
beneath its arm
a slice of the predawn sky,
and from this

it makes its bed.

Rachel Westfall
November 26, 2008


Kyddryn said...

Oh, this is lovely...

Shade and Sweetwater,

RachelW said...

Thank you, Kyddryn!

gameover709 said...


joaquin carvel said...

i love the sweet-sadness of this, and the flow. quiet, soothing, wise and hopeful. beautiful piece.

RachelW said...

Thank you, jorc and Joaquin; I appreciate your comments.