The Crow

I passed a crow along the way
He helped me keep the dark at bay
The dark that once was in my mind has
Turned to light
I think you’ll find

I saw the crow perched in his tree
I saw the crow as he saw me
The crow I saw with solemn stare
Stillness hung
Around him there

The crow who saw my spirit cry
Before I chanced to pass him by
The crow he looked and made no sound
Yet heard my steps
On hardened ground

I looked at him
He looked at me
From flimsy branch
From leafless tree

That’s when I felt the darkness break
A caving in—a sudden shake
A shake within but still outside
The crow he looked at me
With pride

He spoke no words
He cracked no grin
I heard a voice come from within
“You’re not alone” he seemed to say
“I’ll be here along the way.”

And though I walked and passed him by
I felt my spirit start to fly
Soaring up past clouds of white
The crow and I
Outfly the night ~ ~

(C) 2021 Barbara Gray – no content may be used or reproduced without permission of the author.

The Poem

Are we not all

A mixture of love

And self-loathing?

A combination of pure

And defiled

Of the tame

And the wild?

Are we not animals

In conscious form?

Are we not spirit

With bodies warm?

Are we not moral?

Are we not corrupt?

Are we not flowing beneath the surface

Waiting to erupt?

Are we not in all

And of all

And above all

Both love

And the fall?

Are we not the light

And at once the shade?

Are we not in the image of God made?

Are we not weary of illusion

Of purposeless thought

Are we not drowning in delusion

Left barren with what we bought?

Those with ears may hear

And eyes may see

Yet few seek the knowing

Of the eternal Be.