I'm the Raven

Most cultures believe that we, as people, are attached to some kind of animal. The Irish and the Chinese assign animals to a person's birth year. Native Americans have spirit animals. When I was growing up I always wanted to be a Tiger or a Wolf. Something cool and strong and dangerous. Well my dad, who was very into shamanism and Carlos Castaneda at one point, was very adamant that I was a Raven. My freshman year in college I wrote him a poem called "I'm the Raven" which still resides under glass at my father's house in Fremont.

I'm The Raven

"It's me." I said to the sky, when the bird sailed into the blue.
"See how she's laughing at the world."

"It's me." I said to the tree that swayed in the breeze.
"She's got that look in her eye."

"It's me. I told the Sun that beat upon the land
"Her voice is loud, her will is strong."

"It's me." I told he Moon.
"No it's not," He laughed, "Ravens don't fly at night."

A year and a half ago when I was thinking about getting a tattoo, I decided to look up my Celtic animal. It was a Raven. So I came to accept that the Raven was my totem animal.

Today I was standing on top of Hogsback, a section of Highway 12 where the road drops sharply off both sides and you have beautiful 360 degree views of Southern Utah, when a Raven came and landed a couple feet from me. He was not bothered by me one bit, nor I by him. We stared at each other for a few minutes then went on our separate ways, a sign that we are both on the right paths.