CROW

Feathers whisper, the flesh from spirit made.
Put your ear to the wind, and you will hear it laid
Upon the ground of bone and passion
By the breath of love, by the breath of love,
By the breath of love, by the breath of love,
While crow flies, while crow flies above.

The opening of a dormant seed, returning to the earth.
The pulling of the rampant weeds, revealing my worth.
The quickness of the blazing sun, the witness of the quiet moon,
The ashes of the deeds long done, the promise of a life renewed.
The spinning of the frantic worlds that circle within, without.
The stillness of the open sky, and those that know about
The breath of love, the breath of love,
The breath of love, the breath of love,
While crow flies, while crow flies above.

The past is my lesson.
The present my creation.
The future my inspiration.
Crow, lead me, lead me, lead me,
From temptation.

Feathers whisper, the flesh from spirit made.
Put your ear to the wind, and you will hear it laid
Upon the ground of bone and passion
By the breath of love, by the breath of love.

_____
Anthony Rankin Wilson/Brian MacMillan 3/2020