|"Crow on a Branch" by Kawanabe Kyosai (Wikipedia)|
My eyes follow a murder of crows
as they browse along
the carefully watered lawns
in my neighborhood.
They lift into the sky,
calling each to each,
warning of some thing I cannot see.
Sometimes the new
outpaces our ability to take it all in,
to make some sense of order or harmony.
I'm left behind, remembering
crows are more intelligent than we know,
and I wonder what bird-like wisdom
I fail to see.
Today's entry began as a reflection on a photo of some lovely Shetland ponies I saw in Lerwick, Scotland, on a trip there. The green, green grass they grazed reminded me of the crows I saw this morning, and so I shifted closer to home with this poem.