Moab Inspired


The Raven is the desert mystic.
Ask his name and you will be greeted with silence,
Approach him with humility and he might divulge his secrets,
Demand explanation and he will give you directions to your death.

He is not to be hurried.
Every moment of his life is lived in observance,
He knows the songs of the ochre sands and the cerulean skies,
His charcoal eyes chart the rattlesnake trails past the ocean of dunes.

He is never alone.
His shadow half is always nearby in her soft hues,
Black downy beards keep their sexes disguised, role-less.
Their waltz performed on the wind above the canyon shade at dusk.

They are the Keepers of memory.
Those who fear Raven are the children of dark deeds,
Those who respect him know he is a guardian of the Void,
The diamond dew on his flight feathers glistens as the Universe at dawn.

The Raven is the desert mystic.
Even his sheen of blue-blacks and purples,
Is unknowable and mysterious to the human eye,
Everything you have ever been told, Raven knows is a lie.


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