A White Raven

A White Raven short poem

Photo by h.koppdelaney

You pass through the prism of the Time
Thine life is a segment of it
Amid the dense woods, elder bushes and high pines
You constantly strive to exist

Your feathers are odd among others –
They’re lucent and white, just like snow.
Their greatness surpasses that of eagles and hawks, when you hover
Amid the fluffy clouds of the celestial pond aglow

A wanderer eternal and dreamer,
You’ll always abide in the Heaven,
And when the good hour of your clock of life strikes, you’ll ascend in your Glory forever,
You’ll shine in the darkness, the only white Raven.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "A White Raven"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest

Marvelous! Great imagination and wordplay:)


Welcome White Dove

Welcome White Dove short poem

Welcome, welcome White dove The hatred wall That estranged cousins Have begun to fall When love Incarnated in white dove Started to fly high Over Ethiopian- Eritrean sky. Welcome, welcome White dove You are an antidote Border dispute to solve.

White House

White House short poem

It was a rape of a city. Go ahead. I still speak the old phrases with back pain. And let fly the silence in beautiful emptiness of a swollen heart. On pain of anonymity I wanted to clear my name

The Raven

The Raven long poem

A black creature sits in front of me A mysterious yet beautiful creature I reach my hand out to touch the creature and it disappears Crafty creature isn’t it? The creature came back again tonight This time right in front

White Fear

White Fear short poem

Poetry wound and a large schism starts an invasion. Numbness pours out. You become nobody; depart without a farewell. A crazy word is lost and a delirious search is initiated. Bit by bit coexistence is found between the sheets. Unwrap

Featureless And White

Featureless And White short poem

This night of the long vigil has betrayed my soul. Columns of smoke arise from the landscape of shrines. There is no need now, to sing the praise of oblique wars. Truth has made a big dent in my heart.