transmogrify in blue

©2022 Michael Raven

born to blackwing
pierced with thorn
w/blood on lips
ragged and torn
i race over greenfields
to the river fall

giving this husk
to four wind & 4
to find the fifth
somewhen under
the stone

nightburning inside...

forgotten days, then
blue fire pouring
through crashing
past bulls bellowing
in the blackest storms


sever the cords
& w/o regret
time to
step over
the edge

One step beyond

©2022 Michael Raven

I have been standing here, staring at the edge of the world.

People imagine that place to be on the precipice of an abyss filled with void, tumbling out before them — a cascade of nothing.

That’s not the edge of the world.

The edge of the world terminates where another begins: one of dense old growth trees and sunlight struggling to reach eager young plants, and where mycelium chatter over a mystic telegram of spores, electrical impulses and chemical lovemaking. Where thing rot and are reborn in the shadows, and leaves mask the rich soil below.

I am unmoored, unhomed, lost the thread of the tether save for the few gossamer tendrils threatening to break like spider silk under too much strain. I am a drifter trying to find a way back to the heart buried past the edge of the world, a wayfarer and pilgrim, blind with fingers reaching out to feel my way past the blinding brilliance of chrome and corrupted alchemy. I am wandering, here, at the razor thin slice of reality, wondering on which side I actually stand.

Drifter: my everywhere is home, but never do I belong.

Taking up my walking staff, my third leg grounding, I step into the shadows, leaving something behind.

A journey. An echtrae. One step beyond.

go south

©2022 Michael Raven

in the library of dreams
ghosts attempt
to hold back
southernly walks
in the pouring rain

a long way
to go still
i play their games
and ignore the calling
my fylgja caged

but tonight...?