Raven's Nomenclature of Sorrow
This dark bird flies through the sunlight in my soul and
everything inside of me trembles with dark joy and luminous sorrow.
He is the arrow I let loose with my first cry come home to haunt me.
To free me. To root me to my own spot and to dislodge what needs
He places a burning ember between my lips and one in each palm and bids me
But he's hoping I'll hold my tongue.