Crow

Hear the sun, young child as it pours on the backs of the buffalo, Hear their hooves drumming, my blood stirring inside the sky. Believe that I was here when first eternal light was lit. When dark burned into night beneath the stars. Hear the sound, young child, rising to earth and war, rising that we might give our lives to understand. Hear the end and its gentle roar, see what death has turned away, plowing glades to bring our hunters home. Embrace it all. Ride the southern wind that tends our seas. Hear your call and break from small desires  for all will come with my return to hover over spring, winged with the nesting summer.  Share your voice.  Mark the day's mortality not by shadows, nor for need in heaven's angelic eternity, but of greater will and mark to journey well, beyond the feather's sting of crow, Beyond the count that comes with wave and tide, Be of strength to courage when journey's mark scribes to stone, Be the guiding cross when all but faith in flight has turned to cold.   

Author's Note

wip

Reviews

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

It is spring time and I am hungry after my long winter nap....I still have half a heart that beats rapidly....and eyes that fly with the hawk....but my voice...it always comes for your song.

[Perdition]

Well Good Morning and welcome back .I too had to go out and in search of hillsides, sand dunes with weighted eyes but have returned and Yes it IS a wonderful awakening. Hope you're digging into a distant nebula tonight and finding all that comes with...thank you again Queenie!