Flying High Up With The Ravens Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Undertaking this fit of flying with the ravens,
Is going against the grain and doing what is unlike
A person who sings in the shower and bathes in the rain,
For they fly up high and perch themselves on branches
That hang on cliff tops where I remain looking down,
Wondering what would happen if I lost my grip,
And tumbled down like a rag doll that has lost its path.

I stand wondering whether it is envy or jealousy,
That had me trying to stand out as the doer of all
That humans dare not do if they must protect,
The little of what remains of their dignity, after
The birds have proved smarter by crowing so far
From the ears of the everyday cover.

These black ravens so wise and so adept at changing,
Wherever they go cannot have me following like a saint,
That has lost his calling for they will not give back,
To me for all the loyalty I have shown in joining
Them on this battle that for me is a sure sign of daring.

Next time I take on a new task I will know better
Than to go after the strongest trying to prove that
I too can do it. For it leaves me wondering when
The mouse that woke me up last night will return,
And gnaw on the door of my room leaving me awake,
And ready to leave and go up with the ravens, who
Now fail to appreciate my dilemma.

These wings glued on me are now tearing off,
And so is the tiredness that had be breathing
Hard just yesterday wearing me down when I vowed,
I would go on no matter what. Which now I see
As a vow lost on the word for to keep such
A vow was only said to wow the world.

There is truth in this saying, don't fly with
The ravens for they do not know your ability
To reach the heights where lies the nest egg
You are trying to get at. They also do not want
you up there annoying them by taking down what
Is theirs, and going to tell everyone you did it
To prove you can. Such vanity and audacity is
Not known in the world of reason. This just
says return home for you are not a black raven.