The storm winds blow ominously
off the Salish Sea.
Dark wet clouds
block out the rays of the sun;
and the ravens dance.

 Four ravens,
two pairs of black wings
on shades of gray,

silhouette life.
They challenge nature,
grasp it and hold it
suspended in time and place.

They rise together
then fall together.

They dance in unison,
finely choreographed chaos,
two together
and then four
and back to two.

rise, fall, slip, slide, glide.
a dance that is only a dance
because it is danced

by two as one,
by four as two.

They create a pattern
where there is no pattern.

I watch silently in awe
feeling with them the freedom
to dance to my own tune,
to defy the forces of nature,
to find a reason
to dance through the storm.