White Raven!

One still and sultry summer afternoon,
I saw a raven on an oak: pure white.
Radiant feathers adorned her graceful neck,
like magic from nowhere appearing in sight.

She was on a branch brightening the tree,
           or the whole sky!
Her presence as soft as clouds,
           wandering above up high.
What a delight to behold in the lone afternoon.
She saw me too or just perceived,
behind the hide and seek game of leaves.
Her eyes were fixed on me?
Before I was aware the bird disappeared.

And the search began,
in books, talks and beams,
in signs, omens and dreams.
She was gone never to come back.

Was she an illusion?
Play of mind?
Desired by heart?

But then one night, she murmured in my dream ‘if you could believe me once.’ 

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