My sister asked me, “What do the birds mean to you?”, in regards to my recent series of raven paintings. I had to think about this for weeks because it’s hard for me to put a visual image associated with deep emotions, into words.
As always I resort to rambling. Not a poem per se, I wouldn’t claim to be a poet. But here’s a snapshot of the meaning of ravens for you Mollie…
For years i have sat up high on red rock canyon walls
during a day of exploring
or searching for indian ruins
brilliant orange cliff
stunning blue sky
big drop off
my only company the ravens
always soaring below me
they have been here a thousand years and more.
their dung petrified in the dwelling walls
with corn cobs
and that of rats.
still there a thousand years later
mud walls with hand prints
still there a thousand years later.
there is nothing weighing me down here
there is nothing here
and the ravens…
I can hear them now.