Courtesy of Others ~
Corvus corax, my old friend,
Upon my shoulders you've often been.
We've trod the roads of every world.
We've marched beneath your flag unfurled.
Hrafn was the name I called
In times of old when horses hauled.
Now horses laze without shame,
And Raven has become your name.
Hugin thought he knew it all;
Munin did remember the fall.
They would search the world for me,
Telling tales of what they'd see.
But days of yore are long past now;
To no master shall you bow.
A wandering mistral shall I be
Letting none know or see.
He who speaks to birds must hide.
Ancient skald roams far and wide.
The raven sings in the wood,
But who still knows he's understood?
Charles L. Weatherford (PoetryBase), 09 May 2003. All rights reserved.
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