this black bride
holds out her warm
woolen shawl
beacons me come
I will show you love
I come to her
I know her well
more than mother
more than friends
she is dark, warm
she is all crow
her eyes are raven's eyes
in her I see my reflection
she has been with me longer
than anyone, welcomed me
from my mother's womb
saying come, you will be
my child, I came to her arms
she has been mother, bride
seer, and saint
stood by me at fifteen when
I was alone nursed me when
I was rejected talked to me
when true love died
in every maddening thought
in every poem she resides
she takes her place between the stars
when I look up to them
on sleepless nights
she welcomes me now
I am like carrion to a crow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem