Snow descends in white flurries,
somewhat hovering, drifting.
All is still, nothing hurries;
only shadows are shifting.
Night retreats,
moves on
at the break—
of dawn.

the world is shattering,
with a raven hovering.
the wild creation with big strong wings,
coming closure, spreading darkness, hiding everything.
visibility has gone even with dilated pupil.
humans trying to remember ethics and scruples.
this will end soon, we chanting every prayer,
the old and infant both survive and again we get fresh air.

Emptiness prevailing all over us
Like a giant raven.
With Black big wings, hovering over the nation.
Then I see up at the sky,
I wish clouds to give a loud cry.
With all those tears falling,
They Make raven vanish and take back darkness and all in.

Some are just like vultures
           hovering over a moment,
eager to feed on the morsels  
               of your woefulness.

Depression is when the clouds leave you for a while, but they stand, hovering, remnants of it leaked into the atmosphere, and if one little thing goes haywire, well, then it comes back. And hard. It is not something that can go and stay for a little while. It's always there, hovering, waiting for the right time to strike.

Airborne still, this moment aloft is simply magical
in perpetual motion from a moment in the past
when I start to swing, it's a journey, back and forth
to a past  which,I can only visit hovering above
and a future , just an apparition, vague in the horizon,
can't be certain what it would bring, unless I would
make it happen wishing deep inspired by  my vision ,
gathered from my experiences in the swing flying.

Time, lends me the wings that fly me, this vision is all
I have to rely on, to make things happen before
the swing finally slows down before the setting sun.