The Raven

Day 93

Once we hiked to the top of a high mountain.

Desert at the base, all scrubby brush and golden sand.

Sharp, dry, baked by the sun.

Silence so loud,

ringing in our ears.

Static, still.

And the higher we climbed,

the greener it became.

Large trees, lush streams.

Birds, rabbits, squirrels and deer,

living on islands in the sky,

amongst the clouds.

And at the very top,

a raven,



flips and dips,

in the air,

this way and that,

flapping hard and then plummeting, wings still,

only to catch himself and do it all again.

Such pleasure there!

in that strong beak and black feathers.



at home,

high above the earth.

Thank you for listening,






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