Sunday, July 19, 2020

Crows

I had a different poem ready to share today. All somber and melancholy. But then I heard a talk about crows, their mystery and beauty, and decided to write something that was a bit more uplifting. 

I hope you, reader, are happy and laughing. Healthy and whole 💙


~*~

The language of crows
refuses to go unheard
insists on being understood

They will 
create chaos
make graveyards of the sky
until we listen...

...and we should
listen...

...for crows are hatched 
with hope sewn into their feathers
they soak up life, theirs eyes 
glinting with the mystery 
of pure freedom
talons dripping the change 
most do not know how to ask for.

*

They are our human selves transformed
into an existence that promises
something more than mere 
destruction 

We should be so lucky
to be born a crow
mischievous joy bursting from our hearts
as we fly through uneven wind
after a stoic eagle - quiet, alone, lonely

We will remind him, how to laugh.


~*~



~*~*~




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