Am I invited to speak? Well then. Let's turn down, tune in, draw up close & feel free, find a frequency, wait & see what gems drop into these willing laps, what lights alight in these willing eyes. Gathered we here to celebrate the one whose eager strong wings wrap round so much, span the web, sparking fresh life in hungry brains with the word of life, life that ever turns & goes on after grief, like spring, life that keeps climbing higher after the old stories no longer comfort, now feel like excuses, dry-&-hollow, ready to be shed like snakeskin. So we shed. We wriggle & thrash alone or in the arms of loved ones, itching like mad for new answers, heave-breathing out only new questions, gales & waves & hidden currents that toss up the boats of our certainties, fling them like twigs, till we think: I'll either get where I'm going in record time or get wrecked. But where was I? Ah yes. Raven. Raven who saved the first humans from drowning. Talented Raven who plays tricks, whose blackness sparkles in the sun, gifted with something terrible & holy & perfectly ordinary in the grand array of things; Raven flawed & delightful, virtuous, vital, new friend, for whom I wish all blessings on her birthday: all blessings, yes, all abundance, ceaseless, inconceivable, absurd, in its sheer scope suggesting only glad surrender-- on her birthday, this day, & all days to follow. ___ *May 2021*