Thursday, November 26, 2009

The Year That Began With Ravens



The year that began with ravens

Ends with sparrows.


I think my life

Is a candle in a paper boat;

Never meant to last.


The year that began with ravens

Has tested me

In ways I can't explain,


But nameless music

Can be as sweet as a split apple

Or as bitter

As an empty room.


The year that began with ravens

Spared a teasing taste of honey--

An aviary June.


The year that ends with sparrows

Leaves me humble

With just a jar of coins.


I think my life

Is a candle in a paper boat;

Never meant to last--


A sparrow in that twilit place

Where despair and peace are joined.

________

12 comments:

Lil Red said...

One day there will be love that will last from June to forever...with a cracklin' fire!

Riot Kitty said...

I'm with Scarlet!

Pete said...

Wow words
what blessing sparrows are

Shadow said...

don't we all have years like these. may the next one bring fragrant nectar, star bursts and honey-covered monkey nuts for that mischief we so adore.

Sepiru Chris said...

Dear Fireblossom.

We need to have words.

Two words, first.

Property damage.

Now, don't start too suddenly.

Yet.

I am not seeking compensation.

I suppose I have already received it.

But, really.

...

I have a broken chair.

...

Why, croaked the raven, do you have a broken chair?

Because, Miss Raven, as the twittering, chattering class of sparrows, and the fat pigeon bystanders can attest, I moved awfully suddenly. My body went suddenly rigid, pulled taut by neural overloads, then exploded into relaxation.

And, dear Raven, the chair could not absorb the sudden charge in the air, nor, cunning harbinger of warnings, the sudden rocking at its (the chair's) joints.

(Admittedly, it had been glued together after a particular difficult drafting session required extensive leaning on the hindmost legs. But, I digress.)

What does any of this have to do with Liebling Fireblossom?

Seven words, Miss Raven.

Seven magic words sprung my seat from its seams as galvanic forces wrought immobility, then release, on my poor frame. And then on the chair's...

And as occult as you are, you know the many mysterious connections of seven...

...

"Or as bitter

As an empty room."


...

I rest my case.

Tschuess,
Chris

PS. You post from the USA, no?

Aren't you required to put warnings on everything over there?

I recall buying toothpicks once with the warning inside the package advising me not to stick the toothpicks in my eye.

And yet you are allowed to wield a wit far sharper than the point which pierced the arras, and Polonius, too.

Very dangerous, very dangerous.

Vesper said...

But who knows where that paper boat will travel... :-)

ellen abbott said...

I love sparrows.

~ Tabitha ~ said...

When I think of a candle in a paper boat,I think of a beautiful paper lantern.

Loved the birds you wrote along with in this...

Mama Zen said...

This was . . . sad. But, sadness so beautifully expressed.

Elizabeth Bradley said...

This past year was a strange year for me. I will blame the raven.

Pouty Lips said...

I really like the word "twilit." I think there is more left than just a jar of coins, isn't there? Gee, a girl has to have hope don't you know?

Kay said...

oh, sometimes a year can be an eturnity! At least there are wings to fly