Crows
Oracles sleek and black
Feathered crowds
Among the trees,
They gather in murders,
Raucous, squawking,
Waking us to
Half formed dreams of chaos.
Yet legends respect them -
Symbols of death,
Tricksters and thieves,
But clever enough
To fashion tools,
To recognize humans
By their features,
While we are cannot
Tell one crow from another.
Aboriginal ancestors
And thieves of fire,
Harbingers of rain,
Sacred ancestors of
Hindu and protector of
The Buddhist Dharma,
Foreteller of the Dalai Lama.
How we limit our perception
When we hear only their noise.
Copyright © Barbara Peckham | Year Posted 2021
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