29/11/2025
Raven Women Remember
She sits where water keeps the sky,
Knees folded into the hush of the earth,
Braids resting like rivers that never forgot their source.
Her breath is a prayer—
Not spoken, but carried
On the slow ripples of the lake.
Three ravens gather,
Dark as untold stories,
Guardians of the spaces
Between word and wind.
They do not caw—
They listen,
For memory has a sound
Only the patient can hear.
Her robe is stitched with ancestors,
Diamond patterns holding dawn and dusk,
Every thread a path walked before her.
She closes her eyes,
And the world opens—
Roots beneath water,
Stars beneath skin.
Even the reflection
Bows to her stillness,
As if the spirits below the surface
Know her name.
For she is the echo of old songs,
The keeper of what remains,
The woman who remembers
So that nothing sacred
Ever truly sinks.
