The Raven Saves Me with its Cry
Camping during March Break near Agawa Canyon is my way of restoring my soul after a long winter. At dawn, I rise to drink cedar and pine needle tea and to meditatively eat a few almonds and currants. I invite their nourishment to absorb deeply, for I know I will fast until sunset.
Climbing the rise from my camp, I take my place on the cliff at the lake’s edge just in me to catch the first rays of sunrise to start my sun ritual. These first rays cast long shadows of icy pinnacles that jut out of the expanse of the great frozen surface of the lake toward me. Setting the intention to receive each ray into my being all day long, I face the sun and begin breathing in the energy of the sunbeams.
Close to noon I am startled to feel the earth start to shake under me. Though the question of an earthquake passes through my mind, my intuitive response is that it is God walking toward me, through me. I close my eyes as I feel the joy rising in my being at being touched by the Great Mystery. Just then, a loud, startling shriek throws me backward onto the snow. From the ground, I watch the huge raven that just screamed in my face, spiralling upward, beyond the treetops, into the sky above. The realization dawns that, with the shriek that threw me onto my back, the raven has kept me from falling in a faint over the edge of the rocky cliff I had been standing too near.
“The Raven Speaks” recalls this moment.