It’s Raven’s compassion which allows him to wear such a cloak.

Chaos! Chaos!, he cries into the night
passing through grime of polluted rivers,
lands of the distraught dead,
through it unscathed.

It’s Raven’s heart of crystal clear that shines through her darkness.

I see you! I see you!, she cries,
the jingles and jangles of baubles and dangles,
each of a pain
past, present or future
make bells
for the dance.

The Raven celebrates us the way we are now,
by holding the spinning, keeps us sane.

It doesn’t matter if you quake in fear.
The Raven, the Raven, the Raven is here,
and she knows this, far better than me,
each path we’ve stepped or swept into the sea.

Our precious guide
sheds light on the trinkets
stashes the treasures,
screams at the boundaries,
speaks truth when we are falling,
leads us to water,
lies down with us at our ends.

It’s Raven’s compassion which allows her to sing in the Chaos.

..Tasara Jen Stone