Here is the latest installment of Poet’s Corner, presented by the Edmonds Poetry Group.

Ravens in the Wind

Several years ago,
standing near a ledge
at a scenic spot in Oregon,
jagged cliffs caught my eye
against the vivid blue sky.

In those moments, two ravens
leapt off a cliff into the gusty wind.
They put on a magical, acrobatic show
doing flips, somersaults, dive bombing,
allowing the wind to be their guide.

I marveled at their
joyful, trusting,
adventurous spirits
leaping into the unknown
as they did.

How much practice did it take
to be so unafraid?
Was there ever a time
when they sat fearful in a dark place
unable to move?

I now realize that when I am in a dark
place,
there are undercurrents of winds shaping
my spirit in ways that I’m not fully aware.
I try to remember that this is a place
where I must sit before I leap.

I wait for the inward nudge to leap
and when I do,
trust comes.
Out of trust,
direction arrives.

As direction arrives,
I can then surrender.
When I surrender,
I can dance
like a raven in the wind.

Ann Bradford

~ ~ ~ ~

Shadow

You and I walk the same path.
Our light and dark are interwoven
like the warmth of the sun
and the ice of the moon.

We are one.

I wonder though, Shadow,
how it is that you elude me?
Where are you when I bounce along
as if you don’t exist?

Are you carrying
the distant tears
I feel
before they arrive?

Are you what holds
my outrage,
just waiting
to explode, or implode?

Are you doing your best work
when I am quick to snap and judge,
while even quicker
to deny it?

Are you the fear
that I project?
Are you holding the projected fear
that bounces back in me?

Are you silently laughing at my blind spots
that I don’t want to see
yet, are blatantly seen by others
in me?

Are you uneasy
when I puff up
with wisdom
I perceive to be my own?

I have a sense though, Shadow,
behind that veil of yours,
you quietly celebrate
my Wholeness and my Light.

I’m discovering that
you may safely carry
my gifts,
until they are ready to be known.

I have learned to lean into you,
because you may be keeping secrets
that can help me
heal my past.

I now take comfort knowing
that the more that I own
shadow,
the less that it owns me.

The more I own my blind spots,
I find less fault in others.
With less blaming and projection,
the more compassion grows.

Shadow dear,

I will not fear, nor resist you.
I will acknowledge you,
and, when I am able,
embrace you.

We walk hand in hand,
weaving through life’s mysteries
of shadow
and of light.

Ann Bradford

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ann was born in Ketchikan, Alaska, where she lived for 25 years. She found her love for nature there which continued when she moved to the Pacific Northwest. There is a sense of home for her with the water, mountains, and wildlife in both places.

Ann found a heart calling, volunteering with Providence Hospice of Snohomish County for over 12 years. Her presence with patients and their families in their last days and hours taught her more about love and life than it did about death. That experience was teaching her to sit with her own grief and others, with an open heart.

She published a small book, Hope Through Times of Loss: A Collection of Poetry, Thoughts, and Insights, in 2002.

Ann is an avid walker, dog owner, animal lover, amateur photographer, and writer. She loves finding beauty and gratitude in life’s mysteries. She values healthy communication and deep relationships. Her sacred soul work is finding balance, living her truth, welcoming diversity, and expanding the love within.