Has it been a year

Since the Raven died?

I used to be more sensitive   

To the sounds of the forest

And the whirl of life among the leaves

It seems to me unkind

To give her a reason to live

And then deny the time

To do it; but perhaps that is the

Lesson God imparts on us all:

He that giveth can taketh away

And yes, the good often do die young

I had already wandered down the paths of life

Embracing cynicism and Ecclesiastes

And after her daughter, born in hell,

Was raised only to be denied a mother’s love

The Raven left me thinking

That fate is a corkscrew:

Cruelly twisted; sharp, and deep

But I also ask if Purpose,

Once achieved, marks some

As candidates

For premature retirement from the

Vicissitudes of life.

I wonder, in the universe of messages,

If the journey alone was her fate, and if happiness,

Once sighted, was a place she knew she

Was not to tread

Irony permits me to reflect on the

Raven now ensconced in the Bowers of God:

She was not his greatest fan, as I recall,

And if He does get vexed by human foibles

Then she sure did her share of the vexing.

My Christian upbringing tells me

That now, at least,

She is in a better place

But I often wonder

If she holds a different point of view

04/20/2005

Posted on 04/20/2005
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch