27/12/2025
When Night Speaks to Dawn
Beneath the listening moon
they face one another—
Raven of the first shadow,
Owl of the final light.
Between them, the world holds its breath.
Raven carries the memory of beginnings,
ink-dark wings etched with stories
older than fire.
He remembers when the stars
were still deciding where to sit,
when names were not yet spoken
but already understood.
Owl arrives wrapped in quiet gold,
feathers pale as ancestral bone,
eyes full of endings that are not deaths
but doorways.
She knows how truth softens
when spoken slowly,
how wisdom waits
until the heart is ready.
The moon above them is not a witness—
it is a drum.
Each circle a rhythm of becoming,
each mark a vow
the universe once made
and never forgot.
Raven asks the question
that begins the journey.
Owl answers with silence,
which completes it.
Mountains lean closer.
Pines bow their heads.
The ground remembers your footsteps
even before you arrive.
If you stand between these two spirits,
do not choose sides.
You were meant to carry both—
the courage to enter the dark
and the patience to wait for light.
This is the teaching they share
without words:
Life is not the struggle
between night and day,
but the sacred moment
when they recognize each other
and agree to keep the world turning.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker
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