The Raven’s Nocturne
By Al Konda
Some nights don’t hide the world—they show it differently
There’s a kind of night where nothing feels empty.
Where silence isn’t absence— but something listening back.
The raven calls, and you don’t feel afraid.
You feel… recognized.
Like something ancient just spoke your name without using words.
This poem lives there—
in that quiet space where everything slows down and becomes more than what it seemed.
Not louder.
Not clearer.
Just… deeper.
Read the full poem and analysis tomorrow 21st: https://alkonda.com/2026/04/21/the-ravens-nocturne/
— Al Konda