The Crow

?The air gently rises, I'm called, I'm called "Spread now your wings, fly free, into the sky" My wings impatient to ride the wind soaring Softly call me to take the rising thermals I spring away and fall before my wings Gracefully open wide and strong And bear my weight and break my fall Spiral, around, around, rising on water Driven air, rising from plunging water Gravity fuelled, spring driven, seaward bound It powers me up on wide spread wings. I climb up, toward the vast blue sky Lifted by the rising air column I'm grace, perfection, control, ease And above all master of the air The ground recedes, the dry earth Expands, stretches, and soon Way above I fly because I can Not because I must but Because I am lord of all I survey.