William Ricci

Tag: ravens

  • Poem – Flight

    Against an evening sunset and blue backdrop a pair of ravens circle, descend, and ascend a last time before landing in pine trees beginning to green as the last holds of winter give. Clinging to limbs as the winds arrive in gusts from across the lake they call to others a few trees over and…

  • Poem – That Cabin in the Woods

    That cabin in the woods, nestled beneath second generation pine planted after the last logging, waits for our visit. Snow caught in tree-tops meanders through the winter sky covering the green roof in a smooth slope where acorns speed to the ground. Ravens ever present toward the open fields, near the old silo base, they…

  • Returning from Alaska

    Returning from an Alaskan retreat, I am different. Nothing earth shattering and most likely not noticeable to most people I come into contact with. Back home, the sky has not changed, the trees stand tall against the summer blue, and the grass is coarse from overdue rain. Obligations, bills, demands, job – waited at the…

  • Poem – Heartbeat

    In the depths of winter, when I stand as one of the white birch when the ravens come to rest atop silent pines and the fields calm I finally know I am alive when I hear my heartbeat.

  • Poem – The Fragments We Keep

    Eyes open to the blackened sky. I find myself on scattered rocks. Cold waves wash over me as I struggle to remember. Ravens call across the bay. In the distance a portal opens and for the first time in years I feel hope. Ravens now carry the fragments I desire to keep.

  • Poem – Preparing

    I watch the sun fall into the earth and the forest retreat into the shadows. I watch ravens make one last flight this day and the fields consume the rising moon. I try to take hold of today and let go of tomorrow. But I know changes are near and that we are not alone.

  • Poem – Perhaps the Ravens Were the Dream

    Awakened by raven screams from the top of trees above the rocky shoreline, I briefly let go of the dream I was lost within. I wait. Hoping for its’ return. Perhaps the ravens were the dream. When the integration process started there were no words exchanged, no way to communicate until we discovered the universal…

  • Poem – Watching

    The sleepy sun is just raising one eye when we walk onto the patio, one dog on each arm, into the cold morning with a thin layer of frost on the ground and the apple tree. Across the pond an oak tree has emerged from its slumber with a growing veil concealing the noisy ravens…

  • Poem – Dogs of Winter

    Afternoon sun sets quickly as the wind scatters snow and ice through the forest. Summer ponds holding ducks assume a new role and face as the moon consumes the surface. The main path follows the base of the hill winding past wetlands. Ravens assume positions in trees surrounding the open field. The dogs of winter…