She moved into spaces once abandoned by someone else's fear... hers' was victory... she moved through dreams...the delicate nature of stage left to stage right... she found her mark and delivered it... she riffed on a page with abandon to break a curse regarding stagnation of thought... her delivery impeccable regarding its necessary timing to place it at the altar of the universe and send it out across quantum vibrations of change... and then it caught flight... stolen by a dark black beak glistening in the sun... the lure of yellow fragments of linen and a golden array of hair with linen as elixir to catapult the senses and imaginations... to watch transfixed the solitary canoe paddler shaping a heart from black coal that was once burned to ash now catch aflame... to hold a new dream carefully in full fire to a height only deemed mythic in legends of the phoenix... There is not a day that goes by that raven does not watch that paddler... in mind's eye and new borrowed courage... and only deep into the dark night that stage unmasks itself to see her walk into spaces... from stage left to stage right... while this raven holds his breath in awe, wonder, imaginations and dreams of stealing that same said sun... to catch a glimpse and deliver the same elixir... that all too familiar black feathered glistening curious gaze
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